H 
'Rpco  - 


N 


Pictures  of  American  Life  and  Character 
Past  and  Present 


"  These  he  presented  to  his  superior,  who  received  them  with 
visible  reluctance."  —  Page  242. 


AN   ALIEN 


Tbe   Romance   of  an    Odd    Young  Man 


BY 

ftobert 

AUTHOR    OF    "  A    PESSIMIST  " 


BOSTON 
CUPPLES    AND    KURD,    PUBLISHERS 

Slgonqum 
1889 


COPYRIGHT,  1889, 
BY  CUPPLES  &  KURD. 


All  rights  resirved. 


.  *. 


2072278 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    PROLOGUE  . 9 

BOOK    FIRST. 
EARLY  DAYS. 

II.  THE  EASTERN  SHORE        ....  17 

III.  A  HAZING  PARTY 24 

IV.  ECHOES  OF  ALMA  MATER          ...  32 
V.   INFANTILE  CONFERENCES          ...  36 

VI.   GUI  BONO? 42 

VII.   THE  SOCRATIC  IDEA 48 

VIII.   MRS.  MAGELLAN'S      .....  52 

IX.   THE  DE  GROUTS 58 

BOOK     SECOND. 
TACKVILLE   AND    MILETUS. 

X.    WESTWARD  Ho  ......  69 

XI.    LAW  AT  TACKVILLE 76 

XII.   MRS.  CLAYBANK 83 

XIII.  NATURE  AND  HUMAN  NATURE          .        .  90 

XIV.  UP  THE  RIVER    ......  99 

XV.   MR.  RUSTLER no 

XVI.   A  PHANTOM  BALL 123 

XVII.   FIFTEEN  MONTHS  LATER  ....  132 


viii  Contents. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XVIII.  A  FOURTH  OF  JULY  ORATION   ...  138 

XIX.  AN  EXAMINATION 147 

XX.  JOURNALISTIC  PROSPECTS  ....  155 

XXI.  MILESIAN  OPPORTUNITIES          .        .        .  162 

XXII.  DROPPING  INTO  POETRY    ....  172 

XXIII.  HOMESICK 177 

XXIV.  MR.  JANDYKE'S  VIEWS       .        .        .        .  186 


BOOK    THIRD. 
THE   OAKLANDS   EPISODE. 

XXV.   BACK  TO  GOTHAM 193 

XXVI.   IN  THE  GLEN 199 

XXVII.   EMBARRASSING 206 

XXVIII.   CLINTON  EXPLAINS 212 

XXIX.    IT   WOULD   NOT   DO        ...  222 


BOOK   FOURTH. 
IN    HARNESS. 

XXX.  MR.  PRANCE 235 

XXXI.   EDITING  MADE  EASY          ....  244 

XXXII.    AN  UNDOMESTIC  INTERIOR       .        .        .  258 

XXXIII.  AT  DINNER  WITH  MR.  LEAF   ...  265 

XXXIV.  BUSINESS  SECRETS 271 

XXXV.   BOOKS,  '  READERS,'  AND  WRITERS    .        .  278 

XXXVI.    Miss  LOUISE 286 

XXXVII.    EXIGENCIES  OF  LITERATURE    .         .        .  295 

XXXVIII.   COSMIC  PHILOSOPHY 305 

XXXIX.   MISFORTUNES  COME  DOUBLE     .        .        .  321 

XL.  DEATH  AND  MATRIMONY  .        .        .        .  331 

XLI.   GREAT  NEWS 338 

XLII.  A  LAME  CONCLUSION         ....  352 


AN  ALIEN 
FROM  THE   COMMONWEALTH. 


CHAPTER    I. 

PROLOGUE. 

"  THE  trouble  with  you,  Dick,  is  that  you  don't 
go  at  things  in  the  right  way." 

"  No  doubt  of  it,  Bob.  But  that  is  a  very  gen- 
eral statement." 

"  Oh,  I  can  make  it  more  definite,  if  you  wish. 
Mostly  you  don't  go  after  things  at  all,  but  wait 
for  them  to  come  to  you,  which  it  is  not  their 
nature  to  do." 

"  So  it  seems.  I  wouldn't  care  whether  they 
came  or  not,  if  I  could  do  as  well  without 
them." 

"  Precisely  ;  but  you  can't.  In  this  world,  men 
are  largely  dependent  on  things." 

"  That's  what  I  object  to,  Bob.     It's  humiliating 


IO  Prologue. 

and  absurd.  I  can't  believe  we  were  made  to 
expend  our  whole  energies  on  beggarly  carnalities, 
—  money-getting  and  the  like.  Men  are  greater 
than  things,  and  ought  not  to  be  enslaved  to 

them." 

"But  they  are  —  or  principally  by  lack  of  the 
things.  Present  arrangements  have  no  respect 
for  our  abstract  dignity,  my  boy.  What  you  are 
is  judged  by  what  you  do,  and  what  you  can  do 
depends  largely  on  what  you  have  got.  Moreover, 
what  you  have  got  is  supposed  by  many  —  in  fact, 
by  nearly  everybody  —  to  be  the  proof,  and  test, 
and  measure,  of  what  you  can  do,  and  so  of  what 

you  are." 

"That  is  low  materialism.  I  despise  these  mere 
external  valuations.  A  man  ought  to  be  appraised 
for  what  he  is,  not  for  the  clothes  he  wears  or  the 
house  he  lives  in."  , 

"  Very  likely,  Dick  ;  but  what  ought  to  be  is  one 
thing,  and  what  is,  another.  You  live  in  a  world 
of  your  own,  and  pay  too  little  attention  to  re- 
ceived opinions." 

"  But  the  opinions  are  wrong,  and  ought  to  be 
changed." 

"  Set  to  work  to  change  them,  then  ;  you'll  have 
your  hands  full  for  life." 

"  I  would,  if  I  thought  there  was  any  use  of  try- 
ing, and  saw  my  way  to  keep  above  ground  and 
out  of  debt  while  I  was  at  it.  But  the  difficulty 
would  be  to  get  an  audience — unless  I  paid  them 


Prologue.  1 1 

to  come.  They  certainly  wouldn't  pay  me  for 
attacking  their  traditional  position." 

"  They  might,  if  you  were  more  of  a  fanatic  : 
a  reformer  has  to  be  that,  you  know.  But  you 
are  only  a  critic.  I  don't  say  you  lack  the  courage 
of  your  convictions,  but  you  have  no  evangelistic 
zeal.  You  are  not  yearning  to  convert  others ; 
you  care  only  to  coddle  your  doxies,  and  go  your 
own  way." 

"  Well,  it  does  seem  to  me  that  every  tub  ought 
to  stand  on  its  own  bottom.  I  am  willing  to  let 
my  neighbors  alone,  if  they  will  return  the  compli- 
ment." 

"Oh,  they  will;  have  no  fear  about  that.  But 
will  that  suit  your  book  ?  It  seems  to  me  you 
can't  afford  to  be  let  alone.  You  see,  so  inde- 
pendent a  mind  needs  an  independent  fortune. 
As  yoH  are  situated,  you  have  to  keep  on  terms 
with  the  world." 

"  I  want  no  favors ;  only  a  chance  to  exercise 
such  talents  as  Heaven  has  given  me.  I  propose 
to  fill  any  post  I  may  occupy,  and  give  an  honest 
dollar's  worth  for  every  dollar  I  take." 

"  Undoubtedly.  But  whoever  pays  you  a  dollar, 
or  gives  you  a  chance  to  earn  it,  does  you  a  favor, 
until  you  get  your  name  well  up  and  your  services 
in  demand.  That's  the  way  they  look  at  it,  and 
you  can't  change  the  fact.  The  competition  is 
great ;  and  he  who  wants  work  must  put  his  soul 
into  the  search  for  it,  as  well  as  into  the  doing  of 


I2  Prologue. 

it  after  he  finds  it.  And  that  is  what  you  won't 
do  ;  you  might  the  last  possibly,  but  not  the  other, 
which  is  the  more  important  of  the  two.  You're 
too  proud  and  too  wilful." 

"  Very  few  pursuits  seem  worth  investing  one's 
whole  soul  in,  Bob  ;  a  fair  measure  of  brain  and 
conscience  ought  to  be  enough  for  them.  One 
should  keep  most  of  his  force  in  reserve  for  higher 
occasions,  and  use  some  of  it  to  find  out  what  is 
worth  doing." 

"All  that  is  for  your  private  satisfaction,  and 
practically  useful  only  as  a  means  toward  doing 
something  that  will  tell.  The  world  cares  nothing 
about  your  observations  and  your  reserve  forces  ; 
it  asks  only,  '  What  has  he  put  into  the  common 
fund?  What  has  he  to  show?  What  is  he 
doing  that  contributes  to  his  own  and  the  gen- 
eral interest?'  You  see,  it  must  tell  some- 
how." 

"Always  this  everlasting  doing,  Bob!  They 
make  such  a  fuss  about  it,  and  it  amounts  to  so 
little.  I  don't  like  the  world  and  its  ways  ;  I  can't 
take  its  point  of  view." 

"  If  you  announce  that,  you  will  have  a  bad  time 
in  it,  Dick.  Since  you  are  compelled  to  live  in  it, 
and  not  in  some  distant  planet  constructed  ac- 
cording to  your  own  ideas,  you  had  better  conform 
to  its  customs  and  requirements." 

"  I  am  willing  to  do  my  part,  since,  as  you  say, 
I  have  to  make  my  own  way  and  get  my  own 


Prologue.  13 

living.  I  wish  I  hadn't ;  the  whole  thing  is  a  bore. 
I'll  work  if  they  will  let  me  ;  but  I  can't  get  up 
any  great  enthusiasm  about  it,  or  pretend  that 
dross  is  gold." 


BOOK    FIRST. 


EARLY   DAYS. 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE    EASTERN    SHORE. 

IT  might  be  inferred  from  the  above  conver- 
sation that  my  poor  friend  was  younger  than  his 
actual  age,  or  else  a  cowardly  imbecile,  which  was 
far  from  true.  He  was  at  this  time  about  twenty- 
six,  and  a  person  of  very  fair  parts  and  excellent 
principles,  or  what  would  have  appeared  such  had 
he  been  in  harmony  with  his  environment.  But  it 
was  largely  a  case  of  heredity,  and  I  had  better 
begin  the  tale  pretty  far  back. 

The  Graftons  used  to  be  people  of  consequence, 
with  large  estates  bordering  on  the  Chesapeake. 
One  of  them  sat  for  a  while  in  Congress,  which 
was  perhaps  no  discredit  in  those  days  ;  his  father 
had  rendered  service  in  the  Revolution.  Long 
before  that,  as  long  after,  they  were  local  mag- 
nates, keeping  open  house,  and  living  easily  on 
slave  labor.  This  sort  of  thing  does  not  last  for- 
ever, and  the  race  was  slow  to  learn  modern  man- 
ners. On  the  eastern  shore,  it  was  said,  the  lower 
orders  continued  to  hurrah  for  George  Third  at  the 


!g  The  Eastern   Shore. 

beginning  of  the  century,  and  to  vote  for  Jackson 
long  after  he  was  under  ground.     In  the  Grafton 
neighborhood,  within  the  memory  of  men  yet  liv- 
ing, were  two  ancient  spinsters  of  illustrious  name, 
who  could  not  read  — let  us  hope  they  had  once 
learned  but  forgotten  —  and  maintained  themselves 
in  squalor  by  hiring  out   a   pair   of   negroes,  the 
meagre  remnant  of  their  personal  property.    Dick's 
family  kept  up  their  traditions  somewhat  better  ; 
the  men  were  sent  to  college,  and  came  home  to 
ride,  shoot,  fish,  and  occupy  themselves  with  dying 
out.     What   vitality  was   in   the   blood    generally 
passed  to  the  eldest  son  ;  his  brother  (there  were 
seldom  more  than  the  two)  neither  founded  a  new 
house  nor  long  encumbered  the  old  one.     It  was 
a  startling  novelty  when  the  last  of  these  cadets, 
after  some  unusual  escapades,  disappeared  during 
the  infancy  of  our  unheroic  hero,  and  was  believed 
to  have  gone  West. 

Of  Dick's  grandfather  an  edifying  incident  was 
remembered.  The  heir  of  a  Philadelphia  mer- 
chant-prince, travelling  in  that  benighted  region, 
called  at  the  manor-house  to  present  a  letter  of 
introduction.  The  old  gentleman  glanced  it  over, 
recognized  the  signature,  and  was  heard  to  mutter, 
"  Damned  tape-seller !"  before  rising  to  discharge 
the  duties  of  lavish  hospitality.  His  son  was  of 
gentler  and  less  bigoted  strain,  but  ill-fitted  to 
increase  any  of  his  belongings  except  the  library. 
There  he  mostly  passed  his  time,  a  reader  and 


The  Eastern  Shore.  19 

theorizer,  meditating  plans  that  came  to  nothing, 
while  servants  idled  and  overseers  gathered  acres 
and  bank  accounts. 

The  boy,  an  only  child  this  time,  grew  up  at 
will,  wandering  over  woods  and  streams,  but  his 
tastes  were  quiet  and  bookish ;  unguided,  he 
learned  as  much  as  he  might  have  gained  in 
school.  The  war  passed  by  them  little  heeded : 
they  were  not  politicians,  and  newspapers  were 
infrequent  visitors  at  the  remote  plantation.  The 
father  died  when  Richard  was  twelve  ;  the  mother, 
placid  and  colorless,  responded  mildly  to  his  mild 
affection,  and  exerted  little  influence  upon  him. 
Thus  outward  life  made  no  strong  impression  ;  its 
activities  never  came  within  his  ken.  He  read  of 
cities  and  foreign  lands  with  no  eager  curiosity 
to  see  them  ;  the  march  of  history,  the  strife  of 
nations  and  of  trade,  the  adventures  of  love  and 
war,  of  travel  and  of  business,  seemed  to  him  but 
a  curious  panorama,  a  puppet-show  better  to  look 
at  than  take  part  in.  He  had  few  comrades  of  his 
own  or  any  age,  nor  did  he  pine  for  them  ;  to  sit 
on  the  veranda  with  a  book,  to  paddle  lazily  on 
the  creeks  and  inlets,  was  occupation  enough. 
His  mind  was  never  idle,  but  it  had  little  hold  on 
externals  ;  it  was  his  kingdom,  and  he  wanted  no 
other.  He  took  matters  "  by  and  large  ;  "  he  early 
learned  to  generalize,  and  became  impatient  of 
details.  Man  to  him  was  more  than  men ;  he 
was  at  home  in  abstractions,  puzzled  and  wearied 


2o  The  Eastern  Shore. 

before  the  concrete.  As  he  grew  older  he  mused 
much  upon  the  fallen  fortunes  of  his  line,  but  no 
thought  of  restoring  them  occurred  to  him  as  a 
definite  possibility  ;  he  was  the  last,  and  the  tale 
of  what  had  gone  before  seemed  to  impose  a  law 
on  him.  These  things  went  as  they  were  ordered, 
and  how  could  he  resist  the  ordering,  or  succeed 
where  his  fathers  had  failed  ?  The  ends  that  men 
were  said  to  value  so  highly  might  be  well  enough 
if  one  had  them  and  could  take  them  quietly  ;  but 
surely  they  were  not  worth  setting  one's  heart  on 
and  struggling  for  so  furiously.  To  be  useful,  — 
that  might  be  good  if  one  knew  how  and  had  a 
gift  that  way ;  but  taken  selfishly,  wealth,  honors, 
power,  were  nothing  except  for  their  effect  upon 
the  mind  ;  and  if  the  mind  did  not  care  for  them, 
why  then  as  well  be  without  them.  No ;  exemp- 
tion from  the  strife,  to  be  away  from  the  madding 
crowd,  was  best.  A  decent  competence,  shelter 
from  the  storm,  peace  and  leisure  and  liberty, 
were  all  one  need  desire ;  and  if  he  could  not  have 
these,  he  would  at  least  compromise,  and  take  life 
on  a  small  scale. 

"  Sound  sleep  by  night;  study  and  ease 

Together  mixt;  sweet  recreation  ; 
And  innocence,  which  most  does  please 
With  meditation." 

Many  a  youth  of  introspective  cast  has  thus 
mused  in  salad  days  of  greenness,  and  changed  the 
opinion  when  he  was  older;  but  with  poor  Richard 


The  Eastern  SJiore.  21 

the  choice  was  sincere  and  wise.  Had  he  been 
differently  trained  from  infancy  —  had  some  firm 
hand  persistently  drawn  him  out  of  himself,  and 
fitted  him  against  his  will  for  the  battle  of  life,  he 
might  perchance  have  been  able  to  win  and  hold 
his  own,  or  even  to  make  his  mark ;  for  he  lacked 
not  power  of  brain  and  will,  but  only  direction  of 
these ;  a  direction  he  never  received  till  given 
by  hard  necessity,  and  accepted  under  protest. 
There  may  be  many  who  fall  under  the  burden 
and  heat  of  the  day,  unlamented,  and  scorned  as 
imbeciles,  who  might  have  deserved  honors  and  a 
better  fate,  —  idealists  like  Sidney  Lanier,  lacking 
his  high  resolve  to  do  and  die  ;  souls  manly  and 
capable  as  Bayard  Taylor's,  could  they  have  be- 
lieved with  him  that  it  is  possible  -to  serve  both 
God  and  Mammon,  and  that  the  prize  is  worth  the 
race.  The  world  has  no  respect  and  little  pity  for 
them,  for  they  do  not  follow  its  paths  ;  but  I  sup- 
pose the  saying  that  heaven  is  for  such  as  have 
failed  on  earth  applies  to  these  whose  failure 
came  by  no  inherent  vice  or  weakness,  but  from 
lack  of  harmony  with  their  surroundings,  from  in- 
ability to  worship  the  gods  the  popular  Nebuchad- 
nezzar has  set  up.  If  we  take  them  into  the 
account  at  all,  it  certainly  needs  the  prospect  of 
another  world,  managed  on  broader  principles  than 
this,  to  save  one's  faith  in  the  general  ordering. 
If  success  be  the  only  test  of  merit,  it  is  not  easy 
to  see  that  we  have  advanced  much  beyond  the 


22  The  Eastern  Shore. 

feudal  notion  disclaimed  by  Rumbold  under  the 
gallows,  that  some  are  brought  into  the  world 
booted  and  spurred  to  ride,  and  others  saddled  and 
bridled  to  be  ridden. 

Dick  Grafton,  if  you  took  him  intrinsically,  had 
as  much  force  of  character  as  anybody  I  ever 
knew ;  but  it  was  his  curse  that  his  character 
expressed  itself  negatively.  No  one  could  over- 
rule him,  or  lead  him  where  he  did  not  choose  to 
go  ;  no  force  of  circumstances  could  make  him  do 
what  he  thought  wrong ;  but  —  looked  at  from  out- 
side—  he  had  not  the  same  will-power  for  doing  as 
for  refusing.  He  was  not  stubborn  in  a  vulgar 
way,  like  so  many  stupid  folks  who  call  their  obsti- 
nacy firmness,  and  are  proud  of  it ;  he  was  not 
actively  or  consciously  wilful,  though  I  often  called 
him  so.  He  was  always  willing  to  hear  both  sides, 
to  discuss  a  matter  to  its  roots  ;  but  he  seemed  to 
be  governed  by  an  inward  law  that  made  it  impos- 
sible for  him  to  take  the  popular  and  conquering 
course.  The  genesis  of  this  intractability  should 
appear  from  what  has  been  told  of  his  childhood. 
He  never  was  under  tutors  and  governors  when 
he  ought  to  have  been  ;  left  thus  alone,  his  nature 
turned  in  upon  itself,  and  stiffened  and  hardened 
at  the  core,  when  outwardly  it  was  soft  and  pli- 
able. 

I  believe  there  are  more  people  than  we  usually 
think  who  hide  this  dogged  immovableness  under 
a  mild  exterior,  and  without  the  least  hypocrisy 


The  Eastern  Shore.  23 

or  affectation.  When  they  can  take  care  of  them- 
selves, it  is  all  well  enough  ;  but  when  they  can- 
not, it  is  very  difficult  to  help  them. 


CHAPTER     III. 

A    HAZING    PARTY. 

THE  pressure  of  visible  need  might  have  awak- 
ened Dick  from  his  dreams,  but  no  such  pressure 
was  felt  while,  his  mother  lived,  for  she  kept  the 
place  together  somehow,  and  they  never  went  away 
from  home.  Emancipation  had  destroyed  the  last 
vestige  of  their  wealth,  for  the  land  was  worn  out 
and  heavily  mortgaged  ;  but  the  barnyard  and  the 
creeks  supplied  abundant  food,  and  thus  far  there 
was  no  lack  of  clothing.  Thus  matters  went  on 
in  a  slovenly,  careless  fashion  till  Mrs.  Grafton 
died,  when  Dick  was  just  seventeen.  He  mourned 
her  sincerely,  but  not  violently ;  whatever  passions 
might  exist  within  him  had  not  yet  been  called 
forth.  After  the  funeral  his  guardian,  a  distant 
relative,  came  to  the  front. 

"  Young  man,"  said  he,  "  you  will  never  make  a 
farmer,  but  I  hear  you  are  good  at  your  books. 
The  house  is  going  to  pieces ;  to  repair  it  and 
make  the  fields  productive  would  more  than  ex- 
haust your  capital.  Education  will  be  a  more 


A  Hazing  Party,  25 

profitable  investment  for  you.  There  is  nothing 
to  keep  you  here,  and  you  ought  to  see  the  outside 
world.  I  think  we  had  better  let  the  place  go ; 
it  will  yield  enough,  with  economy,  to  carry  you 
through  college,  and  give  you  a  start  in  life." 

This  sounded  wise,  and  Richard  had  nothing 
to  say  against  it :  as  to  where  he  should  go  and 
what  he  should  do  he  was  quite  willing  to  be 
guided,  if  any  one  would  take  the  trouble  to  guide 
him.  So  he  said  farewell  to  the  familiar  water- 
ways, shed  a  few  private  tears  over  the  old  clog 
that  had  been  his  comrade  almost  since  he  could 
remember,  and  started  for  a  cooler  and  more 
energetic  clime.  Yale  was  among  the  family  tra- 
ditions ;  a  few  months  of  preparation  qualified  him 
for  entrance,  and  there  I  first  met  him  in  the  fall. 

A  little  contact  with  his  kind  had  taught  him 
much ;  he  was  not  afflicted  with  hobbledehoy 
shyness,  and  no  one  suspected  how  hermit-like 
his  life  had  been.  I  was  a  sophomore  then,  and 
the  custom  of  hazing  had  not  been  abandoned. 
Dick  had  few  acquaintances  ;  but  his  room-mate, 
a  little  fellow  blest  with  a  brother  among  the 
juniors,  was  posted,  and  had  given  him  the  neces- 
sary points.  So,  when  a  party  of  us  called  on 
them  one  evening,  we  were  politely  but  warily 
received.  They  set  up  the  beer ;  our  leader, 
noted  as  a  "  bad  man  "  and  freshman-hater,  poured 
into  Dick's  portion,  unseen  as  he  thought,  an 
infusion  of  something  stronger.  Presently  Dick, 


26  A  Hazing  Party. 

with  more  success  in  escaping  notice,  exchanged 
glasses :  one  or  two  of  us,  who  detected  the  ma- 
noeuvre, found  no  opportunity  to  warn  Jones  before 
he  swallowed  the  compound.  Soon  our  hosts  were 
invited  to  contribute  vocal  music  to  the  amenities 
of  the  occasion.  "  Unfortunately,  I  don't  sing," 
said  Dick;  "but  Mr.  Jones  here  is  good  at  it,  I 
am  told."  Jones,  who  was  by  this  time  in  a  state 
of  maudlin  amiability  and  ready  to  fraternize  with 
his  worst  foe,  promptly  complied,  and  made  a 
sufficient  exhibition  of  himself.  So  heterodox  a 
turning  of  the  tables  deeply  disgusted  us,  for  when 
had  a  sophomore  ever  made  mirth  for  freshmen  ? 
The  Marylander  was  asked,  with  some  urgency, 
to  display  his  powers  in  other  directions  ;  but  all 
these  suggestions  he  coolly  declined.  ' 

The  hazing  fervor  at  that  time  had  received 
some  discouragement  from  tales,  probably  apocry- 
phal, of  a  wild  Arkansan  who,  being  beset  in  his 
room  at  Ann  Arbor,  had  turned  off  the  gas,  picked 
up  a  heavy  chair,  and  "gone  for"  the  crowd  in 
the  dark  with  good  will  and  too  marked  results, 
and  of  a  Carolinian  who  had  knifed  his  assailants 
nearer  home.  Much  respect  was  felt  for  South- 
ern prowess,  and  it  was  agreed  that  students  from 
Spanish- American  lands  should  be  exempt  from 
domiciliary  visits.  At  a  council  held  on  the  first 
night  of  term,  the  truculent  Jones  himself  re- 
marked, "Understand,  boys,  these  foreign  ducks 
are  to  be  let  alone.  They're  not  up  to  our  customs, 


A  Hazing  Party.  27 

and  it's  not  fair  or  hospitable  to  bother  them ;  I 
don't  go  into  any  arsenal.  And  I  say,  fellers,  let's 
look  out  for  these  coons  from  the  cotton  states,  and 
inquire  whether  a  man  carries  a  bowie  before  we 
drop  in  on  him.  We  want  to  do  it  gentlemanly, 
and  not  get  into  rows  with  any  dashed  duellist." 

The  committee  of  investigation  had  satisfied 
themselves  that  Grafton  was  harmless,  and  so 
instructed  the  squad  which  took  his  case  in  hand  ; 
but  when  the  critical  moment  arrived,  our  a  ptiori 
doubts  returned.  He  was  from  the  wrong  side 
of  the  line  after  all,  and  he  had  a  Southern  look. 
He  was  well  grown  and  muscular  for  his  age, 
with  very  dark  hair,  a  firm  chin,  and  an  eye  that 
looked  as  if  it  could  flash.  His  easy  manners 
showed  good  blood,  and  hinted  at  dignity  in 
reserve,  if  there  should  be  any  call  for  it ;  his 
tranquil  presence  of  mind  was  more  than  we  had 
expected.  Veal  is  better  adapted  to  the  hazing 
process  than  precocious  beef;  so  after  looking 
at  each  other  awhile,  and  answering  his  civil 
questions  rather  tamely,  we  rose  to  go,  on  the 
best  terms  with  our  entertainers,  and  feeling 
that  we  had  furnished  too  much  of  the  entertain- 
ment ourselves.  Our  ex-hero  Jones  was  in  no 
condition  to  rise  ;  as  we  lifted  him,  Grafton  ob- 
served, in  a  tone  of  dispassionate  criticism,  "  His 
head  must  be  weak.  I'm  not  much  used  to  beer 
myself,  but  I  can't  imagine  its  affecting  me  like 
that" 


28  A  Hazing  Party. 

Having  thus  begun  his  college  course  with  tclat 
my  friend  (as  he  soon  became)  continued  it  with 
decent  credit,  but  without  fulfilling  the  expecta- 
tions to  which  his  first  exploit  had  given  rise. 
Several  fraternities  sounded  him,  but  he  said  he 
had  not  much  cash  to  spare  for  luxuries,  and  did 
not  care  to  branch  out  just  then.  His  classmates, 
at  first  disposed  to  rally  round  him,  soon  found 
that  he  was  a  peaceable  youth  with  no  pretensions 
to  leadership.  He  went  into  athletics  enough  to 
meet  their  demands,  and  into  junketings  suffi- 
ciently to  avoid  being  thought  mean  or  unsocial, 
but  he  was  not  bigoted  to  such.  "  I  don't  know 
how  to  take  Grafton,"  the  great  Van  Snoozer  was 
heard  to  state.  Van  Snoozer  was  an  F.  F.  and 
plutocrat  in  one,  handsome,  envied,  and  courted, 
who  held  his  head  high,  and  had  a  right  to.  "  He's 
friendly  enough  when  you  drop  in  on  him,  and 
always  has  time  to  hear  what  you've  got  to  say. 
He'll  go  out  with  you  when  you  ask  him  — 
sometimes.  He's  not  a  mere  grind,  nor  the  least 
of  a  cad  in  any  way,  and  you  can't  say  he's 
offish.  But  he  doesn't  seem  to  appreciate  your 
attentions,  nor  to  value  his  opportunities."  At 
this  point  Tufts,  who  stood  listening  reverently 
on  the  outskirts,  sighed  at  the  thought  of  such  a 
waste,  and  groaned  and  frowned  over  the  sac- 
rilege of  it.  "O,  yes,  I  know  he'll  stand  by  a 
friend  ;  but  how  much  does  he  care  for  his  friends, 
or  for  anything,  as  far  as  you  can  see?  If  this 


A  Hazing  Party.  29 

were  England  now,  and  he  a  duke's  son,  with 
rent-roll  and  the  rest  to  match,  it  might  do ;  but 
as  it  is,  I'm  blanked  if  I  can  understand  his 
being  so  dashed  indifferent." 

This  was  delivered  with  some  feeling.  It  was 
difficult  to  patronize  Grafton ;  and  Van,  whom  he 
had  pulled  and  pushed  through  a  tough  exami- 
nation, and  whose  usage  it  was  to  pay  for  such 
services  in  suppers,  introductions,  and  the  like, 
was  naturally  puzzled,  as  were  some  others.  But 
Dick  fell  into  no  snares  and  made  no  enemies. 
The  only  sins  you  could  lay  at  his  door  were 
negative.  He  was  not  this,  that,  or  the  other, 
one  or  sundry  of  which  a  youth  generally  is  and  is 
expected  to  be ;  not  gluttonous  nor  a  wine-bibber, 
nor  a  friend  of  jockeys  and  actresses  ;  no  toady  to 
wealth  or  station  or  office ;  no  devotee  to  football 
or  waltzing,  nor  yet  even  to  chemistry  and  calcu- 
lus; neither  pietist,  bookworm,  nor  worldling  of 
any  ascertained  and  labelled  type,  but  just  a  quiet 
fellow  who  did  his  daily  tasks  and  somewhat 
more,  asked  no  favors,  and  liked  to  look  about 
him  and  see  how  men  disported  themselves  and 
how  things  were  done.  Now  observation  of  char- 
acter and  manners  is  not  a  recognized  profession, 
nor  is  it  easy  to  see  how  one  may  make  a  living 
by  it.  If  you  have  a  definite  aim  indeed, —  if 
you  mean  to  be  a  politician,  and  secure  people's 
votes ;  or  a  blackmailer,  and  realize  on  their 
secrets ;  or  a  novelist,  and  expound  their  weak- 


30  A  Hazing  Party. 

nesses, —  there  may  be  profit  in  this  calm  study 
of  vour  kind.  But  none  of  these  was  likely  to 
be  Grafton's  "lay:"  the  trouble  about  him  was 
that  he  seemed  to  have  no  "  lay "  —  no  serious 
purpose  in  .life,  such  as  the  rest  of  us  pursue. 
Even  his  observations  sometimes  bored  him,  be- 
cause no  mastering  sympathy  entered  into  them. 
A  man  must  take  his  line,  and  follow  it  as  if  it 
were  liable  to  lead  to  something,  or  what  would 
the  world  come  to  ?  Little  Tufts,  perhaps  the 
only  man  in  college  who  actively  disliked  Dick, 
used  to  say,  "The  feller's  a  fool,  don't  yer  see? 
Why,  he's  poor,  he  is,  and  yet  he  never  borrows, 
though  Van  Snoozer  would  lend  him  fifty  any 
day.  Don't  even  return  half  Van's  visits ; 
dash  such  an  ass,  I  say.  Plays  a  good  hand  at 
whist  and  billiards,  and  never  makes  any  money 
by  it  —  won't  gamble,  he  says !  I  wish  to  Jove 
I  had  the  chances  he  throws  away.  Would  you 
believe  it,  at  the  last  hop  old  Billion's  daughter 
took  a  shine  to  him,  —  the  old  lady  too,  and 
invited  him  to  their  swell  place  by  the  Park  ;  and 
the  blanked  idiot's  never  been  ! !  I  wish  to  Zeus 
she'd  take  a  shine  to  me.  Don't  even  go  to 
Prex's,  or  to  the  profs',  though  a  dozen  of  'em 
have  asked  him  ;  hasn't  sense  enough  to  see  that 
somethin'  can  be  made  out  of  the  Faculty.  What 
the  demon  does  he  mean  by  such  conduct  ?  Just 
grubs  and  looks  at  Life,  he  says.  What  the 
hades  is  the  use  of  lookin'  at  Life,  unless  you're 


A  Hazing  Party.  31 

on  spec,  goin'  to  make  a  pot  out  of  it,  eh  ?  No 
make  in  him  at  all ;  he'll  never  do  any  good  in 
this  world.  Dod  gast  such  a  gosh  blasted  loafer, 
anyway." 


CHAPTER    IV. 

ECHOES    OF    ALMA    MATER. 

THESE  comminations,  and  such  occasion  for 
them  as  their  object  may  have  furnished,  were 
of  later  date.  I  do  not  propose  to  afflict  the 
reader  with  a  detailed  narrative  of  Dick's  four 
years  in  academic  halls.  They  constituted  the 
happiest  portion  of  his  life  —  at  least  that  is  the 
received  and  canonical  opinion  as  to  all  of  us. 
And  yet,  however  important  and  blissful  that 
early  and  formative  era,  there  is  seldom  much  to 
say  about  it  afterwards.  How  flat  and  stale  the 
recollection  of  experiences  once  full  of  zest,  —  the 
surreptitious  joys  of  evenings  in  oyster-cellars  ; 
the  well-planned  assault  on  freshman  windows  ; 
the  breathless  retreat,  hotly  pursued  by  minions 
of  the  law  ;  the  ecstasy  of  painting  Professor  Z.'s 
horse  blue,  and  painfully  leading  him  up  the 
stairs  ;  the  delirious  rapture  of  skulking  through 
snow  half  the  night,  picking  a  few  locks,  and 
bearing  away  in  trembling  triumph  the  clapper  of 
the  big  bell !  Why  is  it  that  when  graybeards 


Echoes  of  Alma  Mater.  33 

meet  to  exchange  reminiscences  of  lang  syne, 
their  sedate  tongues  babble  of  grovelling  class- 
room imbecilities  ?  —  How,  during  the  brief  career 
of  Jugs  and  Grogson,  they  would  enter  with 
unsteady  step,  lean  heavily  on  the  back  of  a 
friendly  bench,  fix  on  the  blackboard  a  glassy 
stare,  thickly  answer  in  the  very  words  of  the 
book,  and  fall  wofully  at  the  first  departure  from 
that  sacrosanct  order,  or  question  of  how  and  why. 
How  Shirk  used  to  pin  his  faith  to  Diddle,  and 
drink  in  wisdom  from  his  monitory  lips,  and  from 
them  alone  ;  how  in  history,  gently  wooed  to  name 
some  of  these  Elizabethan  free  lances  of  the  sea, 
—  "  Now,  Mr.  Shirk,  who  was  Raleigh's  half- 
brother?  I  am  sure  you  know.  Sir  Hum- 
phrey —  ? "  He  bent  toward  his  chosen  guide, 
caught  two  magic  syllables,  and  cheerfully  respond- 
ed, "O,  yes,  sir,  of  course !  Sir  Humphry  Davy." 
How  in  chemistry,  required  to  state  the  properties 
of  gold,  he  turned  to  the  same  unfailing  source 
of  light,  and  rejoiced  professor  and  class  with 
the  priceless  information  that  "  All  is  not  gold 
that  glitters."  But  in  the  Latin  room  no  such 
vicarious  wisdom  was  accepted,  for  Syntax  knew 
boys ;  no  getting  around  him.  You  remember 
Dummy's  handling  of  the  intricate  passage  that 
began,  Et  insignum  —  ?  By  rule  he  was  allowed 
five  minutes.  For  two  of  them  he  stood  with  the 
book  close  to  his  nose,  then  looked  up  and  ven- 
tured with  dubious  inquiry,  " Et  —  and?"  This 


34  Echoes  of  Alma  Mater. 

being  admitted,  three  minutes  more  passed  in 
solemn  silence;  then,  with  more  confidence,  " In- 
signum  —  the  ensign  ?  " 

Grafton's   enjoyment    of    such   feats    was   less 
vociferous  than  that  of  the  rest.     Not  that  he  and 
I  were  ever  in  the  same  class  :  I  would  not  have 
you  suppose  that  I  was  dropped  a  year.     But  he 
surveyed  most  phenomena  with  placid  tolerance, 
feeling  nowise   responsible   for  idle  dullards  like 
Shirk  and  Dummy ;  as  for  Grogson  and  Jugs,  — 
why,  if  men  chose  to  mistake  themselves  for  lower 
animals,  that   was  their  affair.     Obviously,  Dick 
would  make  but  a  fourth-class  missionary.     But  it 
was  not  safe  to  practise  gross  meanness  or  injus- 
tice when  he  was  by.     He  never  fought,  but  he 
had  a  way  of  drawing  himself  up  and  staring  at 
you  from  under  lowered  brows  that  was  unpleas- 
antly suggestive.     Once  there  was  a  contest  be- 
tween Truman  and  Caddy  for  a  prize,  and  we  all 
knew  who  deserved  it.     While  others  were  talking 
about  what  ought  to  be  done  if  it  should  fall  to 
Caddy,  Graf  ton  went  to  him  and  said,  "  If  you  like 
to  cheat  through  an  examination  and  avoid  a  flunk, 
I  have  nothing  to  say  ;  but  you   ought  to  know 
that  honors  and  scholarships   are   not  to  be  got 
that   way.     If  you   get   this  one,  I   will   tell  the 
authorities  how  you  did  it." 

"  You  will  ?     Play  informer,  eh  ? " 

"Just    so;    and    you    can't    say   you    had   no 
warning." 


Echoes  of  Alma  Mater.  35 

There  was  no  more  trouble  about  that.  He 
was  a  generous  fellow  too.  He  rather  laughed  at 
philanthropy,  but  he  used  to  do  more  good  turns 
than  most  of  us.  I  stopped  one  night  to  take  him 
to  a  show;  a  very  decent  show  it  was,  of  the  mildly 
improving  kind.  I  thought  he  had  been  working 
too  hard,  and  needed  relaxation. 

"  I  can't  go,  Bob;  too  busy,  you  see." 
"What's  all  that  exercise  ?     It's  never  yours." 
"  No,"  he  said   reluctantly,  "  it's    Featherton's. 
He  had  an  engagement  to-night,  and  I  promised 
to  do  it  for  him." 

"  How's  this  ?  Helping  the  camel  to  go  through 
the  needle's  eye  ?  I  thought  you  were  down  on 
cheating." 

"  Yes ;  but  he's  in  a  hole  rather,  and  can't  get 
out  by  himself.  It  can't  hurt  anybody,  and  I 
don't  want  to  see  him  dropped." 

"  I  say,  what  does  he  pay  you  for  this  ?" 
He  flushed.     "  Pay  ?     What  do   you   take   me 
for?     You'd  do  it,  or  anybody." 

Now,  "anybody  "  would  not,  as  far  as  my  experi- 
ence goes  ;  but  that  was  Dick  all  over.  He  would 
let  himself  be  imposed  on  by  a  careless  ne'er-do- 
well,  who  would  forget  the  service  to-morrow  ;  he 
would  waste  an  evening  to  do  another's  work  in 
misplaced  good  nature,  and  anxiously  avoid  get- 
ting any  credit  or  profit  from  it,  then  or  ever 
after, 


CHAPTER    V. 

INFANTILE     CONFERENCES. 

STUDENT  customs  have  —  or  had  in  my  time  — 
a  rigidity  which  the  outside  world  cannot  compre- 
hend, and  which  even  to  an  alumnus  of  a  dozen 
years  seems  somewhat  mediaeval.  However  badly 
a  junior  might  want  a  light  for  his  cigarette,  an 
unwritten  but  Median  law  forbade  him  to  accept 
it  —  on  the  campus — from  a  lower  classman.  But 
this  rule  was  relaxed  indoors  and  as  graduation 
approached,  and  during  my  last  year  Dick  and  I 
came  to  be  as  intimate  as  he  ever  was  with  any 
one. 

"  Grafton,"  I  asked  him  one  night,  "what  are 
you  going  to  do  when  you  get  through  here  ? " 

"I  am  not  sure.  There's  over  a  year  yet.  Take 
to  the  law,  I  suppose." 

"  What  for  ?     You  don't  care  for  law,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Not  especially.  How  many  fellows  have  any 
marked  taste  or  talent  for  anything  in  particular  — 
I  don't  mean  in  the  way  of  beer,  tobacco,  dinners, 
dances,  and  the  theatre,  but  occupation,  line  of 


Infantile  Conferences.  37 

life  ?  Not  one  in  twenty.  How  do  we  know  what 
we  are  best  fitted  for  ?  Aptitudes  are  seldom 
developed  at  our  time  of  life.  I  rather  envy  those 
who  escape  the  bother  of  choosing,  and  have  a 
way  marked  out  plain  before  them,  like  you.  I 
might  go  into  business  in  that  way,  —  if  I  had  it 
all  fixed,  and  paternal  prestige,  and  skilled  clerks 
to  conduct  it  for  me.  Otherwise,  I  have  no  turn 
for  it." 

This  he  said  not  the  least  enviously,  but  simply, 
as  one  who  states  a  case.  He  was  frank  enough, 
and  ready  to  discuss  any  subject,  but  in  a  general, 
impersonal  way.  When  he  brought  himself  in  — 
which  he  was  as  ready  to  do  as  others  —  it  was  as 
illustrating  the  principle  or  case  in  hand ;  not  as  if 
his  fortunes,  or  any  external  fact  or  set  of  facts, 
could  be  a  prime  consideration.  He  seemed  to 
have  no  secrets,  no  ambitions,  no  prejudices,  no 
passions  worth  mentioning,  and  scarcely  any 
interests. 

"  By  the  way,  what  has  become  of  your  farm  in 
Maryland?" 

"  My  guardian  took  that.  It  was  encumbered, 
you  know." 

"  Makes  a  good  thing  of  it,  does  he  ? " 

"  Better  than  I  should.  I  wouldn't  mind  living 
there  as  my  fathers  did,  if  it  were  still  mine.  But 
I  know  nothing  about  land  and  crops,  and  that. 
Oh,  it  will  come  right  somehow." 

"  You  have  no  relations  ? " 


38  Infantile  Conferences. 

"None  of  any  account.  The  guardian  never 
cared  for  me,  nor  I  for  him.  There  was  a  brother 
of  my  father's  who  went  off  ages  ago  and  died,  we 
supposed  ;  he  was  never  heard  of  again.  No,  I'm 
all  alone ;  have  to  stand  on  my  own  pins,  or 
tumble." 

"  Would  you  mind  telling  me  how  you're  set  up, 
Dick  ?  " 

"Not  the  least,  if  I  knew;  but  I've  not  en- 
quired into  details.  Time  for  that  when  I  come 
of  age.  I  believe  there's  enough  to  keep  me 
a  while  yet,  and  then  I  must  get  up  and  go  to 
work.  So  I  thought  of  law.  They  say  it  leads 
everywhere." 

"  I  doubt  if  it  leads  where  you  want  to  go ; 
politics  are  not  in  your  way,  surely.  To  do  any 
good  at  law  you've  got  to  persuade  yourself  that  you 
believe  in  it  —  or  pretend  to,  anyway.  Remem- 
ber Dummy,  when  he  was  plucked,  and  Smith 
asked  him  what  he  would  do  next  :  '  I  shall  read 
law;  the  study  of  the  law  is  the  most  gentlemanly 
excuse  for  doing  nothing.'  That  might  do  for 
him,  but  not  for  you." 

"I'm  not  conscious  of  any  wild  longing  to  do 
anything  in  particular,  Bob ;  and  I  presume  I 
could  do  one  thing  about  as  well  as  another.  No 
tormenting  desire  to  show  the  world  how  to  keep 
house  disturbs  my  sleep  o'  nights.  I  could  be 
content  to  sit  still  and  see  how  folks  do  it  of  their 
own  motion." 


Infantile  Conferences.  39 

"  So  most  of  us  feel ;  we'd  like  to  take  it  easy 
and  let  others  do  the  work.  But  that's  not  exactly 
your  style  either." 

"What  I  object  to  is  the  practical  part  —  the 
competition  and  the  scrambling.  I  can  do  my 
own  work  if  it's  cut  out  for  me,  but  I  don't  want 
to  push  myself,  and  stand  in  some  other  fellow's 
light.  I  suppose  one  can  learn  to  do  it,  though, 
when  he  has  to." 

"  Why  not  try  teaching  ?  You're  an  intellectual 
chap  —  you  like  books  and  ideas,  and  all  that." 

"  District  school,  and  board  around,  as  Hobbs 
did  last  summer  ?  Thanks ;  such  ambition  as  I 
have  flies  a  little  higher  than  that." 

"  Well,  journalism,  then  ;  that  might  get  you  on 
the  literary  line." 

"  You  have  to  begin  with  reporting.  I  haven't 
the  cheek  to  ring  people's  door-bells  and  ask  'em 
about  their  daughters'  elopements.  Do  you  be- 
lieve I  could  be  an  author,  Bob,  —  write  big  books, 
and  be  one  of  the  few  immortal  names  ? " 

"  You  ask  me  too  much,  Dick :  time  alone  can 
tell.  But  you  might  be  a  writer.  You  generally 
get  ten  on  essays,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Who'd  want  to  print  our  essays  ?  They're 
mere  'prentice  work.  O,  yes !  with  practice  I 
might  do  conundrums  for  the  story  papers,  and 
see  my  initials  in  the  poet's  corner.  That  might 
suit  Bardie  here,  but  I  don't  seem  to  care  about 
it." 


40  Infantile  Conferences, 

At  this  point  his  chum,  who  had  just  come  in, 
took  a  hand.  He  was  a  wiry,  nervous  little  boy, 
with  curly  hair,  blue  eyes,  and  ideas  far  above  his 
stature ;  said  to  be  addicted  to  verse  of  his  own 
construction,  but  free  from  other  vices.  The  roy- 
sterers  of  their  class  called  him  and  Dick  the  pair 
of  doves. 

"  You  never  do  seem  to  care  about  anything ; 
that's  what's  the  matter  with  you.  I  wish  you'd 
take  him  out  and  shake  him,  Tim." 

If  any  of  my  class  had  been  present,  I  might 
have  felt  obliged  to  resent  a  junior's  making  thus 
free  with  my  name.  They  all  did  it  themselves, 
but  this  was  too  unconventional.  But,  alas  !  I  was 
never,  like  General  Banks  at  New  Orleans,  great 
on  dignity ;  and  Bardie  meant  no  harm.  So  I  let 
him  go  on. 

"  It's  too  bad  !  Here  are  a  dozen  great  careers 
waiting  for  a  chap  that's  got  a  head  on  him,  and 
a  soul  inside  him  ;  and  —  " 

"  Which  of  'em  do  you  mean  to  follow,  Bardie  ? " 

"  I  ?  Oh  !  we're  not  talking  about  me  ;  Dick's 
the  theme  just  now.  I  don't  mind  you,  Tim.  You 
waste  your  time  dreadfully,  and  keep  some  pretty 
rough  company ;  but  you're  not  half  as  bad  a  lot 
as  you'd  like  people  to  think,  and  I  for  one  believe 
you've  got  a  heart.  Keep  still  now,  and  let  me 
go  on.  —  Why,  he  might  be  a  statesman,  and  make 
his  voice  heard  in  the  council-halls  of  his  state,  or 
even  of  the  nation  ;  there's  need  enough  of  reform 


Infantile  Conferences.  41 

in  Baltimore,  close  to  where  he  came  from.  Or  he 
might  be  a  doctor,  and  carry  the  balm  of  healing 
to  suffering  thousands  —  hough  I  don't  think  so 
much  of  that,  for  the  body  isn't  the  man.  Or  he 
might  make  a  big  fortune  —  wait,  now,  and  hear 
me  out ;  not  that  that's  of  any  account  in  itself,  of 
course,  only  think  what  good  he  might  do  with  it ! 
There's  a  lack  of  large-minded  and  public-spirited 
millionnaires,  as  we  all  know.  Or  he  might  be  a 
great  scholar,  and  shed  abroad  the  light  of  science, 
and  perhaps  get  to  be  president  of  this  concern  in 
time ;  even  here  some  improvements  might  be 
made.  He's  got  capacity,  if  he  had  any  ambition. 
Or  —  " 

"  Or  he  might  be  a  thumping  preacher,  only  he 
never  could  compete  with  you,"  Dick  interrupted, 
reaching  for  the  tobacco  jar. 

"  Or  he  might  be  a  poet,  and  write  beautiful 
songs  to  bring  tears  to  every  female  eye,"  said  an- 
other ;  "  but  he  doesn't  seem  to  care  for  it,  because 
there  you'd  be  ahead  of  him  again." 

"  Well,"  said  Bardie,  flushing  a  little,  "  anyway 
you  both  know  he  ought  to  be  stirred  up,  and  have 
a  noble  aim,  and  go  in  for  something  great  and 
useful." 


CHAPTER    VI. 

CUI  BONO? 

BUT  enough  —  perhaps  too  much  —  of  this  inno- 
cent childish  talk.  Alas  poor  infants,  who  think 
the  world  is  all  before  them  where  to  choose,  and 
they  can  do  pretty  much  anything  if  only  they 
make  up  their  minds  to  this  or  that !  We  smile 
at  the  raw  conceit,  forgetting  the  sadness  of  the 
spectacle  in  the  light  of  what  lies  ahead.  What 
more  pathetic  than  to  hear  green  youth  exclaim, 
"I  will  be  a  statesman  —  or  a  famous  artist  —  or 
a  great  author  ! "  or  what  not  ?  Dear  child,  what 
does  the  world  care  for  you  and  your  roseate 
schemes  ?—  How  do  you  know  it  has  any  room  for 
you  at  all  ?  You  may  be  thankful  by  and  by  if 
through  any  sort  of  tolerably  honest  drudgery  you 
can  pay  the  rent  in  an  obscure  back  street,  and  the 
butcher's  and  grocer's  bills  as  they  fall  due.  Bar- 
die is  now  a  meek  little  minister  in  a  New  Hamp- 
shire village,  raising  a  fine  family  on  seven  hundred 
dollars  a  year.  The  light  has  gone  out  of  his  eye, 
and  he  has  forgotten  more  poetry,  written  or  un- 


Cui  Bono  ?  43 

written,  than  I  ever  knew  ;  but  his  sentences  are 
still  neatly  turned,  and  the  old  ladies  of  his  flock 
say  he  reads  Dr.  Watts's  hymns  beautifully.  And 
Dick  —  poor  Dick,  dear  Dick,  who  had  more  in 
him  than  any  of  us,  if  only  he  could  have  brought 
it  to  bear  —  ah  well,  let  us  not  look  ahead  so 
eagerly,  or  so  disconsolately.  The  evil  day  will 
come  soon  enough ;  there  is  abundant  time  to  tell 
of  his  struggle  with  environment.  Let  him  repose 
in  the  arms  of  Alma  Mater  while  he  may.  His 
tasks  there  are  congenial  and  definite ;  as  yet 
no  vague  responsibility  for  managing  events  and 
shaping  life  perplexes  his  brain  and  dulls  his 
spirit ;  the  day  has  not  arrived  for  half-envious 
wonderment  at  those  who,  with  far  less  mental 
range  and  furnishing,  solve  easily  the  baser  prob- 
lems that  were  not  included  in  his  curriculum. 

For  such  as  Dick,  and  for  multitudes  little  like 
him,  grave  doubts  may  be  raised  as  to  the  value  of 
a  college  course  which  prepares  for  and  leads  to 
nothing.  In  a  semi-feudal  society,  where  a  gentle- 
man has  his  ancestral  acres  to  retire  to  and  per- 
haps parliament  to  enter,  he  wants  the  traditional 
accomplishments  of  his  order;  to  keep  on  terms 
with  his  Homer  and  Lucretius  may  be  amusing 
and  appropriate.  But  that  is  another  case  than 
ours.  Of  what  use  are  Greek  roots  and  meta- 
physics to  those  who  have  to  fight  for  a  foothold, 
and  for  every  inch  of  advance  ?  They  give  tone 
to  the  mind,  perhaps,  but  not  the  tone  that  is 


44  Cut  Bono  ? 

wanted  for  real  life.  A  university  atmosphere  is 
not  that  of  the  outside  world :  it  may  be  purer 
and  finer,  but  when  one  descends  from  scholastic 
heights  into  the  marketplace,  his  lungs  are  poorly 
fitted  for  the  transition.  Contact  with  books  and 
abstract  ideas  has  given  his  brain  a  stamp  which 
does  not  recommend  the  goods,  and  turned  it  into 
other  roads  than  that  of  commerce.  Not  only  is 
the  graduate  distrusted  in  newspaper  offices  and 
counting-rooms,  but  he  feels  himself  too  good  for 
the  work  that  is  open  to  him.  It  is  coarse,  and 
he  is  fine,  if  not  superfine  :  what  a  waste  of  his 
acquirements,  —  to  hide  them  behind  a  desk  or 
counter!  His  nature  has  been  subdued  to  what 
it  worked  in,  and  now  it  must  soak  in  another 
vat  and  take  a  different  dye.  The  aristocrat  of 
thought  is  but  a  poor  plebeian  before  the  aristoc- 
racy of  shares,  and  his  careful  speculations  vain, 
since  they  look  to  no  returns  of  cash.  Labori- 
ously he  must  unlearn  what  he  has  been  learning, 
and  begin  with  another  alphabet  —  a  Volapiik  of 
trade,  in  which  men  compute  and  calculate  to  out- 
wit each  other. 

I  buy  my  cigars  of  Schnabeling,  whose  shop  is 
under  the  Hungarian  theatre  ;  a  fluent  and  trav- 
elled exile,  whose  conversation  is  improving.  "  O, 
yes,"  he  informs  me,  "  dis  is  better  dan  de  oder. 
Ven  I  teach  Greek  and  Latin,  my  vife  haf  to  do 
de  vashing  ;  now  she  vear  silk  and  go  to  de  play. 
Tobacco  pay  veil,  yes  ;  but  classic  —  ach!"  He 


Cut  Bono?  45 

has  introduced  me  to  Professor  Von  Bamberg, 
who  holds  several  titles  and  a  creditable  post  in 
one  of  our  erudite  institutions.  "  I  am  too  oldt  to 
schange,"  he  says,  "  but  our  friendt  here  vas  vise. 
For  vhat  I  spendt  so  many  years  at  Heidelberg 
and  Berlin  ?  I  am  ghentleman,  yes  ;  but  vhat  of 
dhat  ?  I  am  an  employe.  My  neighbor  de 
plumber,  he  employs  oders,  and  earn  ten  dollar 
vhile  I  earn  von.  He  enjhoy  life;  he  feel  no 
deficiency;  he  leave  his  schildren  providedt  for. 
I  live  on  a  higher  plane,  you  say,  I  haf  mental 
resources  ?  Ach,  but  dhat  is  not  practical,  not 
American.  It  is  de  gelt,  fecunia,  r  argent !  " 

If  my  boys  had  their  way  to  make,  I  should  aim 
to  begin  their  training  for  it  at  the  earliest  pos- 
sible moment.  You  send  a  youth  to  West  Point 
or  Annapolis  :  only  get  him  in,  and  he  is  all  right 
if  he  can  stand  the  pace,  and  if  the  navy  is  not  cut 
down  again.  He  goes  forth  with  a  profession, 
such  as  it  is,  a  position,  a  salary.  They  give  him 
some  nominal  work  to  do,  whatever  it  may  amount 
to,  and  keep  him  at  it ;  at  least  he  is  not  left  out 
in  the  cold,  he  does  not  have  to  think  what  he  can 
turn  to  next.  That  is  one  use  of  government  ; 
and  that  is  the  main  argument  for  socialism,  —  the 
difficulty  of  finding  and  keeping  a  footing  in  the 
crowd,  the  incompetence  of  many  to  do  it.  Why 
should  not  education  recognize  the  facts  of  mod- 
ern life,  and,  instead  of  merely  enlarging  the  circle 
of  one's  wants,  teach  him  how  to  supply  them  ? 


46  Cut  Bono? 

From  time  immemorial  we  have  had  schools  of 
law,  physic,  and  divinity,  and  more  recently  of 
engineering,  agriculture,  and  finance  ;  yet  about 
even  these  hangs  a  suspicion  of  the  visionary  and 
unsubstantial.  Is  theory  naturally  hostile  to  prac- 
tice, and  learning  at  variance  with  doing?  I 
have  heard  ministers  say  that  all  their  theology 
that  was  worth  insuring  was  gained  after  leaving 
the  seminary,  and  engineers,  that  their  diploma 
signified  no  more  than  a  plan  after  which  their 
house  of  professional  knowledge  was  to  be  built. 
As  the  country  becomes  more  crowded  and  the 
struggle  for  existence  fiercer,  our  schemes  of 
study  will  have  to  be  modified  more  and  more, 
until  the  college  offers  an  avenue  leading  to,  and 
not  away  from,  the  paths  of  after-life.  General 
culture,  "the  humanities,"  a  wider  range  of  mental 
vision  and  sympathy,  are  very  fine  things ;  but 
work  in  the  world  is  for  the  most  part  neither 
humane  nor  liberal,  nor  in  any  wise  refined  or 
rarefied,  but  narrow  and  rough  and  hard.  Our 
time-honored  plans  of  instruction  appear  to  assume 
that  anybody  can  make  a  living,  or  a  fortune  if  he 
should  need  or  care  for  it,  much  as  Dogberry  held 
that  reading  and  writing  come  by  nature ;  and  one 
position  is  about  as  well  justified  as  the  other. 

You  say  I  am  preaching  base  materialism.  Am 
I  responsible  for  the  present  state  of  things,  for 
Life  as  it  is,  and  its  hard  laws  ?  It  seems  time 
we  began  to  face  the  facts  and  try  to  mend  them, 


Cut  Bono  ?  47 

by  sending  forth  our  rising  generation  —  our  Mite 
and  elect  youth,  if  you  like  —  fitted  as  well  as  may 
be  to  claim  and  keep  their  own.  Nobody  else  is 
likely  to  look  after  them  if  they  cannot  do  it  for 
themselves ;  and  it  is  a  pity  to  see  so  many  learned 
titles  strewn  about  the  country,  battered  and  rusty 
because  the  owners  have  not  wherewith  to  keep 
them  in  repair. 


CHAPTER     VII. 

THE    SOCRATIC    IDEA. 

MY  family  being  in  business,  and  not  ashamed 
of  it,  I  had  more  inkling  of  these  facts,  or  princi- 
ples—  call  them  which  you  prefer;  we  will  not 
quarrel  about  a  term  —  than  Grafton  could  be 
expected  to  possess ;  though  the  bulk  of  such 
usable  wisdom  as  either  of  us  ever  acquired  (or 
any  other  fellow,  for  that  matter)  was  laid  in  by 
slow  degrees  long  after  taking  our  B.A.  During 
his  junior  year  my  friend,  more  through  his  own 
reading  than  from  class-room  requirements,  be- 
came inthralled  by  the  ancient  philosophy,  or  what 
he  supposed  to  be  its  leading  ideas.  Not  being 
a  German  or  a  Scotchman,  he  had  no  very  pro- 
nounced taste  for  pure  metaphysics ;  but  the  moral 
and  rudimentary  part  of  those  notions,  as  outlined 
in  the  fourth  century  and  expounded  by  sym- 
pathetic Occidentals,  gripped  him  hard.  I  never 
believed  that  the  old  masters  themselves,  with 
some  few  exceptions,  cared  half  as  much  for  this 
doxy  as  did  their  belated  disciple ;  for  the  Greek 


The  Socratic  Idea.  49) 

mind,  while  vastly  delighted  with  dialectical  puz- 
zles, had  no  bigoted  attachment  to  questions  of 
faith  and  conscience.  But  poor  Dick  thought  he 
had  found  a  rule  for  the  conduct  of  life.  He  said 
all  the  antique  schools  branched  from  the  trunk  of 
Socrates,  laying  stress  on  whatever  part  of  his 
teaching  they  happened  to  like  best,  as  all  the 
Christian  sects  did  from  Jesus.  This,  I  suppose, 
may  have  been  so  ;  but  it  was  not  the  main  point. 
He  fell  in  love  with  the  Socratic  idea  that  the  end 
of  man  was  to  recognize  Truth  and  be  in  harmony 
with  it ;  to  look  things  in  the  face,  and  call  them 
by  their  right  names ;  to  respect  facts,  and  order 
his  life  according  to  them.  When  he  burst  upon 
us  with  this  discovery  —  for,  incredible  as  it  may 
appear,  these  pale  abstractions  had  more  charm  for 
him  than  a  boat-race  or  a  ball,  and  waked  him  to 
new  life  —  we  told  him  that  was  all  simple  and 
obvious,  and  nothing  to  make  a  fuss  about. 

"  But  how  many  remember  it,  or  live  by  it  ?  "  he 
cried.  "To  cast  aside  prejudice  and  passion  and 
self-interest,  to  look  steadily  at  and  care  simply 
for  the  Truth  —  here's  a  chart  to  steer  by  !  Orig- 
inal and  absolute  truth  voiced  and  shadowed  forth 
in  existing  facts,  in  the  phenomena  of  life ;  why, 
that  makes  heaven  accessible,  and  gives  us  a  noble 
law  at  once  for  thought  and  action." 

"See  here,  Dick,"  said  I;  "according  to  this, 
whatever  is  is  right.  You'll  not  find  it  so — not 
by  a  jugfull.  I  know  better." 


50  The  Socratic  Idea. 

"You  mustn't  take  it  so  narrowly,"  said  he. 
"It  doesn't  mean  that  your  cutting  so  many 
classes  is  right,  or  staying  out  so  late  nights ;  but 
the  general  concourse  of  events,  the  harmonies 
of  cause  and  effect,  the  ordinances  of  nature. 
Rightly  understood,  these  are  a  law  to  our  minds, 
a  law  of  magnanimity  and  veracity  and  wisdom. 
All  events,  characters,  and  thoughts  are  parts  of 
the  whole,  and  we  may  learn  from  any  source." 

"That  sounds  transcendental,"  I  said,  "and  I 
don't  believe  it.  Have  you  been  to  Concord 
lately?  Dick,  if  you  go  on  like  this,  you'll  get 
to  be  a  mere  muddle-headed  theorist." 

"  He's  right,  of  course,"  Bardie  shouted  joy- 
ously. "  He  wanted  just  this  to  rouse  him.  You 
shut  up,  Tim." 

"  There's  no  harm  in  being  a  theorist  so  long  as 
you're  not  a  dogmatist,"  said  Dick.  "  Why,  man, 
how  can  you  live  without  theories  ? " 

"  You  certainly  can't  live  on  'em,"  I  replied. 
"  That's  the  point ;  you  make  a  note  of  it."  But 
he  would  not  heed ;  with  all  his  talk  about  being 
open  to  truth,  he  would  take  it  only  in  such  shapes 
as  suited  him.  Ah,  what  green  goslings  we  were 
in  those  days,  with  our  Ideals  and  Phenomena  and 
such  !  Yet  even  I,  though  I  was  but  a  year  or 
two  older,  and  the  President  (who  was  prejudiced 
against  me)  might  not  think  me  the  best  guide  for 
my  juniors,  could  have  taught  Dick  a  thing  or  two, 
had  he  listened.  At  that  time,  alas !  he  had  no 


The  Socratic  Idea.  51 

ears  for  any  instructor  less  venerable  than  Socrates 
and  F.  D.  Maurice.  The  sins  of  the  fathers  are 
visited  upon  the  children,  and  the  self-indulgences 
of  youth  return  to  plague  us  in  maturity.  That 
was  a  wise  man  who  said  that  of  all  his  sins  those 
of  omission  weighed  heaviest  on  his  accusing  con- 
science—  though  I  think  he  had  committed  arson 
and  several  burglaries.  If  Grafton  had  done  no 
worse  than  amuse  himself  like  the  rest  of  us  with 
a  moderate  amount  of  drinking  and  gambling,  he 
might  not  have  been  so  heavily  punished  after- 
wards ;  but  when  a  fellow  goes  off  mooning  with 
toploftical  theories,  and  turns  a  deaf  ear  to  prudent 
counsels,  what  can  he  expect  or  what  can  his 
friends  expect  for  him? 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

MRS.  MAGELLAN'S. 

AFTER  graduating,  I  was  supposed  to  be  closely 
occupied  learning  the  business  in  New  York;  but 
I  went  to  New  Haven  now  and  then,  and  per- 
suaded Grafton  to  come  to  me  at  Christmas. 
Here  I  strove  to  induct  him  into  metropolitan 
society  and  its  canons. 

"  You  go  out  too  little,  old  man.  It's  not  what 
a  man  knows,  so  much  as  whom  he  knows,  that 
tells.  You  ought  to  be  making  acquaintances 
that  may  be  useful  to  you." 

"  I  can't  take  that  view,  Bob.  A  man  must 
depend  on  his  own  exertions." 

"  Yes,  but  his  own  exertions  may  need  backers. 
If  you  make  the  right  impression  on  the  right 
people,  they  can  put  things  in  your  way,  and 
open  various  channels  to  your  beneficent  activity. 
See?"  . 

"  No,  I  don't.  There's  time  enough  for  all  that 
yet.  I've  got  my  studies  to  attend  to.  And  then 
I  know  a  lot  of  fellows." 


Mrs.  Mage  Hans.  53 

"  Much  trouble  you  ever  took  to  know  them, 
staying  in  your  room  and  grubbing  at  your  old 
pagans.  We  live  in  the  nineteenth  century  A.D., 
man,  not  in  the  fourth  B.C.  Did  you  ever  make 
an  effort  to  cultivate  anybody  that  was  worth 
knowing,  now  ?  " 

"  Why  no,  not  especially.  My  friends  usually 
come  to  me.  Affinity  and  taste  regulate  these 
matters." 

"You  can't  live  on  your  tastes.  There's  Van 
Snoozer,  for  instance.  He  feels  grateful  to  you, 
and  would  like  to  show  it.  He's  not  a  bad  fellow, 
and  with  his  wealth  and  influence — " 

"  What  do  I  want  of  his  wealth  and  influence  ? 
He's  not  my  sort ;  he's  too  rich.  You  don't  sup- 
pose I  would  make  a  trade  of  friendship  ?  That 
will  do  for  Tufts." 

"  Do  you  remember  what  Tufts  said  about  you 
once  ?  Well,  there  was  truth  in  it,  though  he  put 
it  coarsely.  You're  far  from  a  loafer,  and  you're 
not  a  fool  in  the  broad  sense,  but  if  you  go  on  in 
this  way,  people  will  think  you  are.  You  neglect 
your  opportunities,  and  you  won't  think  of  your 
interests.  I  tell  you,  these  things  go  for  more 
than  scholarship  and  abstract  ability  and  char- 
acter. People  don't  care  for  the  abstract :  it's  the 
concrete  that  wins." 

He  looked  disgusted.  "  Do  you  want  me  to  be 
a  male  Becky  Sharp  ?  I  should  be  ashamed  to 
look  people  in  the  face  if  I  were  thinking  of  what 


54  Mrs.  Magellan's. 

I  could  make  by  them.  Relations  must  be  free 
and  natural  and  spontaneous,  or  I  don't  want 
them." 

"  What  do  you  suppose  people  go  into  society 
for,  dear  child  ?  " 

"A  few  to  study  character  and  manners,  or 
brush  up  their  wits  by  contact,  and  most  to  meet 
their  friends  and  enjoy  themselves,  I  presume. 
That's  all  right,  though  I  don't  care  for  it." 

"  They  are  like  Mary's  little  lamb,  eh  ?  Love 
of  their  kind  and  pure  aff ectionateness  —  was  that 
your  idea  ?  They  go  to  secure  or  improve  their 
positions  ;  position  is  everything  in  this  world, 
and  it  involves  relations  with  a  lot  of  people. 
There  may  be  exceptions,  but  as  a  rule  we're  all 
on  the  make,  in  one  way  or  another." 

"  I  don't  like  to  hear  you  talk  like  this,  Bob.  It 
seems  to  take  all  heart  and  soul  out  of  life.  You 
are  not  so  mercenary  as  you  pretend,  or  you . 
wouldn't  care  to  have  me  about ;  there  is  nothing 
to  be  made  out  of  me.  I  had  better  get  back  to 
college." 

"  Not  yet  for  a  few  days,  sweet  youth.  You've 
got  to  take  in  at  least  one  crusher,  and  see  the 
world  that  lieth  in  wickedness." 

The  next  night  I  took  him  to  Mrs.  Magellan's. 
He  was  not  altogether  a  hermit,  but  accustomed 
to  do  his  duty  as  a  classman,  some  small  part  of 
which  was  social.  Thus  he  had  several  times 
been  obliged  to  entertain  ladies  at  the  hops,  a 


Mrs.  Magellan 's.  55 

task  requiring  no  vast  intellectual  outlay.  If  he 
possessed  but  a  moderate  fund  of  small  talk,  he 
could  at  least  smile  politely  and  look  like  a  gentle- 
man in  his  decent  though  not  oppressively  new 
dress  coat,  which  dated  from  early  in  his  sopho- 
more year  ;  and  I  did  not  fear  his  appearing  awed 
by  so  much  splendor,  or  talking  Greek  philosophy 
unawares.  He  had  already  met  several  persons, 
and  I  introduced  him  to  others  who  would  know 
how  to  handle  him  and  not  mind  the  trouble  too 
much ;  besides,  there  was  my  sister  to  look  after 
him  at  need.  He  could  dance  in  a  way,  and  a 
good-looking  youth  who  has  that  merit  can  get  on 
well  enough,  as  he  seemed  to  do.  On  the  way 
home  I  asked  him, 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  it  ?  " 

He  answered  in  his  usual  placid  and  summa- 
rizing way,  "  It  was  all  right.  Very  well  done,  no 
doubt ;  very  nice  for  those  who  like  that  kind  of 
thing." 

"  Several  pegs  above  what  we  had  at  New 
Haven,  eh  ?  Yet  you  don't  seem  impressed  by 
it." 

"  Impressed  ?  No ;  why  should  I  be  ?  It  was 
simply  one  of  the  phenomena,  and  not  so  much  in 
my  line  as  some  others." 

"O,  hang  up  your  phenomena.  Weren't  you 
struck  by  any  of  the  girls  ? " 

"  They  didn't  carry  clubs,  that  I  saw.  What 
would  I  be  struck  for  ?  " 


56  Mrs.  Magellan's. 

"  Well,  fellows  sometimes  are.  How  is  it  that 
you  don't  care  for  female  loveliness  ?  " 

"  How  is  it  that  I  don't  care  for  race-horses,  or 
editions  de  luxe,  or  fancy  farming,  or  the  stock 
market  ?  They  are  not  in  my  line.  It's  just  as 
well  that  I  have  no  expensive  tastes,  isn't  it  ? " 

We  had  dropped  into  Delmonico's,  and  were 
consuming  some  light  refreshment.  As  my  guest, 
I  wished  him  to  see  things  that  were  beyond  his 
usual  range ;  but  it  is  sometimes  hard  to  know 
what  to  say  to  such  a  fellow. 

"  Bob,"  he  went  on,  "  I  had  better  get  out  of 
this.  You're  very  kind,  but  I  don't  care  to  play 
the  country  mouse  sponging  on  his  city  cousin 
when  he  can't  respond  in  kind.  You  see,  it's  all 
so  different ;  I  can't  set  up  the  champagne,  nor 
entertain  you  and  others  as  you  do  me." 

"  Who  expects  it  of  you  ?  Are  you  putting 
down  in  your  mental  accounts,  '  To  R.  T.,  Dr., 
one  pint  Mumm  and  one  shrimp  salad '  ?  We 
don't  do  things  that  way,  my  dear  boy.  Have 
you  been  oppressed  by  our  haughty  state  at  the 
house?  I  thought  we  were  rather  unpretentious 
and  homelike." 

He  blushed.  "  No  ;  you're  all  right.  But  it  isn't 
even  ;  it  isn't  fair.  I  felt  as  if  I  had  no  business 
at  Mrs.  M.'s  to-night." 

"Because  you're  not  triple-plated  ?  Did  you 
think  you  owed  her  a  return  blow-out  ?  The 
gilding  on  some  of  those  swells  is  pretty  thin. 


Mrs.  Magellan's.  57 

You  noticed  Dacres  and  De  Shyster  ?  They  sleep 
in  little  hall  bedrooms  on  the  fifth  floor,  dine  at 
cheap  places  on  Sixth  Avenue,  and  save  their 
pennies  to  come  out  strong  on  these  occasions." 

"  I  can  put  my  pennies  to  a  better  use,  prefer- 
ring as  I  do  a  simpler  life.  There  was  that 
dinner  Van  Snoozer  gave  us  ;  I  tried  to  get  out  of 
it,  you  know,  but  couldn't.  He  means  well,  but 
these  things  leave  me  with  an  unpleasant  sense  of 
obligation." 

"  That's  all  nonsense,  I  tell  you.  Your  pride 
will  be  the  ruin  of  you  ;  put  it  in  your  pocket,  and 
take  things  as  they  come." 

"  I  prefer  to  pay  my  own  way,  and  live  within 
my  income.  However  narrow  that  may  be,  a  man 
can  at  least  preserve  his  self-respect.  To  do  that, 
he  had  better  not  mix  too  much  with  those  who 
are  differently  situated  ;  the  fitness  of  things  for- 
bids it." 

To  this  notion  he  stuck  as  Quixote  to  Rosi- 
nante,  nor  could  my  arguments  budge  him  from 
his  high  horse. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

THE   DE    GROUTS. 

OF  course  I  attended  the  next  commencement, 
where  Grafton  had  the  valedictory  and  went  off 
in  a  blaze  of  glory.  He  was  a  fair  speaker,  and 
one  of  the  best  writers  in  his  class ;  not  that  what 
they  write  there  bears  any  relation  to  what  is 
wanted  outside  —  as  he  had  the  sense  to  know, 
and  had  once  acknowledged.  His  effort  dealt 
with  the  Relations  of  Thought  to  Life,  and  was 
hugely  applauded.  Its  ideas,  as  you  might  expect, 
were  wholly  abstract,  unfounded,  and  misleading, 
but  an  audience  will  put  up  with  any  amount  of 
philosophical  foolishness  at  such  times.  Tufts 
had  withdrawn  long  before  (in  fact,  he  had  worked 
his  principles  for  more  than  they  were  worth,  and 
been  caught  cheating  at  cards,  as  well  as  at  the 
blackboard),  so  Dick  had  not  an  enemy  in  the 
place.  Now  was  his  chance,  if  it  had  been  any- 
body else,  to  come  into  something  good  ;  but  his 
high-toned  obstinacy  stood  in  the  way,  of  course. 
Van  Snoozer,  whose  younger  brother  was  wild, 


The  De  Grouts.  59 

wanted  Grafton  to  take  the  boy  to  Europe  and 
act  as  bear-leader  for  a  while ;  but  Dick,  suspect- 
ing patronage  in  it,  declined  an  offer  which  you 
or  I,  in  his  circumstances,  would  have  jumped  at. 
Harker,  who  had  no  more  cash  and  less  qualities 
than  our  misguided  friend,  secured  the  berth,  and 
to  that  auspicious  start  in  life  owed  his  subsequent 
fortunes :  diligently  cultivating  the  connection, 
he  married  judiciously  on  the  outer  edge  of  the 
charmed  circle,  set  up  as  a  stockbroker,  got  points 
from  Van's  uncle,  the  railroad  magnate,  and  was 
rich  before  he  was  thirty.  Dick  never  could  have 
done  all  that,  I  own  ;  and  he  had  made  up  his  mis- 
judging mind  to  try  the  law.  One  or  two  of  the 
professors  advised  him  to  take  pupils,  and  sent 
him  a  few,  for  he  was  too  proud  to  seek  them. 
This  occupied  his  vacation,  and  his  leisure  through 
part  of  the  fall. 

In  the  winter  I  induced  him,  much  against  his 
will,  to  make  me  another  visit.  He  was  warmly 
received  by  my  people,  and  by  others  of  the  Yale 
set,  who  knew  of  his  high  standing  and  blameless 
record  :  solid  old-fashioned  men,  who  liked  to  see 
the  virtues  of  their  youth  repeated  ;  matrons  who 
admired  pink  cheeks,  pure  brows,  and  guileless 
frankness  in  a  boy,  and  were  not  apt  to  find  them 
in  their  own  sons ;  some  young  girls  even,  who 
saw  the  halo  of  commencement  yet  about  his  head. 
We  dined  with  the  De  Grouts,  who  still  display 
the  plate  of  their  Huguenot  ancestor,  and  some 


60  The  De  Grouts. 

mahogany  nearly  as  old ;  but  perhaps  you  will 
kindly  excuse  me  from  describing  the  furniture. 
As  we  sat  solemnly  over  some  extra  regalias,  the 
head  of  the  house  thus  accosted  his  principal 
guest,  who  was  not  myself. 

"  My  dear  sir,  it  is  not  my  custom  to  use  many 
words  ;  but  I  have  not  forgotten  what  you  did  for 
my  unhappy  boy.  If  ever  I  can  —  " 

Here,  with  what  seemed  to  me  a  gross  breach 
of  his  usual  good  manners,  Dick  hastened  to  in- 
terrupt. "  O,  thank  you  ;  but  it  was  nothing  — 
nothing  at  all."  I  kicked  him  under  the  table  ; 
why  will  he  flout  the  goddess  Fortune  whenever 
she  tries  to  smile  on  him  ? 

"  My  son  thinks  differently ;  but  it  is  a  pleasure 
to  meet,  in  this  degenerate  day,  a  young  man  who 
is  unwilling  to  discuss  his  own  good  deeds.  You 
will  at  least  permit  me  to  say  that  I  appreciate 
your  influence  on  Clinton.  That  of  our  friend 
Robert  here  might  not  have  been  equally  benefi- 
cial." And  he  looked  at  me  rather  grimly. 

I  knew  I  was  asked  there  only  on  Dick's  ac- 
count ;  but  I  answered  loyally,  "  Well,  sir,  you 
can't  expect  us  all  to  be  such  paragons  as  Grafton. 
He's  a  sort  of  lusus  natures,  he  is.  He  can  row  a 
fair  oar,  and  catch  a  tolerable  ball ;  and  yet  he  was 
always  well  up  near  the  head.  He  was  class  treas- 
urer once,  and  I  believe  his  accounts  came  out 
straight,  or  very  near  it.  He  never  got  into  any 
scrapes  or  rows  at  all,  which  is  unusual,  sir,  I 


Tlie  De  Grouts.  61 

assure  you.  Quite  popular  with  the  boys,  he  was  ; 
and  yet  the  faculty  thought  a  heap  of  him." 

"  So  I  have  heard,"  said  the  old  gentleman, 
smiling  gravely,  while  Dick  fidgeted  on  his  chair, 
and  scowled  at  me.  "  By  the  way,  Mr.  Grafton, 
your  great-grandfather  married  into  a  branch  of 
my  family  then  resident  in  Virginia,  now,  unhap- 
pily, extinct.  Yes,  your  great-grandmother  was  a 
second  cousin  once  removed  of  my  grandfather's 
half-brother  Hugh,  who  was  killed  at  Eutaw,  as 
you  may  remember ;  there  hangs  his  sword.  She 
was  a  reigning  beauty  in  her  day.  We  are  among 
the  few  New  Yorkers,  my  dear  sir,  who  are  not 
indifferent  to  the  past."  And  they  went  off  into 
the  depths  of  a  genealogical  discussion,  while  I 
escaped  to  the  parlor.  Madame  and  her  hand- 
some daughter  received  me  civilly,  but  looked  as 
if  they  would  rather  see  the  beneficent  and  irre- 
proachable Dick. 

"Well,"  I  asked  later  that  night,  "did  you  pass 
examination  on  the  battle  of  Eutaw  ?  At  least 
you  remember  your  great-grandmother's  beauty?" 

He  did  not  seem  to  see  the  joke.  "  My  an- 
cestors may  not  have  left  me  much,  but  I  keep 
their  pedigree  if  not  their  acres.  I  enjoyed  Mr. 
De  Grout's  conversation." 

"  A  good  thing  you  did ;  I  don't  grudge  it  to 
you.  What  was  that  about  the  son  ?  You  never 
told  me  of  that." 

"  It  wouldn't  interest  you,  as  you  knew  the  boy 


62  The  De  Grouts. 

but  slightly.  He  was  a  soph  then,  and  inclined  to 
be  fast.  He  got  into  a  scrape,  and  I  happened  to 
be  near  by ;  I  had  coached  him  once  or  twice. 
The  particulars  are  of  no  account." 

"  No,  I  suppose  not.  And  after  that  you  played 
Rhadamanthus  and  Boanerges,  made  him  see  the 
error  of  his  ways,  and  snatched  him  as  a  brand  from 
the  burning.  Yes,  you  could  do  that  better  than 
I,  as  the  old  gentleman  said." 

"  He  was  behind  with  his  work  —  had  to  stay 
half  the  summer,  and  I  was  asked  to  coach  him 
again,  as  a  matter  of  business  this  time.  They 
paid  for  the  lessons ;  I  didn't  like  it  altogether. 
It  seemed  as  if  I  ought  not  to  be  dining  there  to- 
day, having  been  in  their  employ." 

"Bright  idea  that,  Richard.  When  we  go  to 
Washington,  and  call  on  the  President,  no  doubt 
he'll  be  ashamed  to  shake  hands  with  us,  being  in 
our  pay." 

"  Well,  you  can  exaggerate,  and  you  can  laugh, 
Bob ;  but  I  feel  as  if  I  had  derogated  from  my 
dignity,  and  lost  caste." 

"You'll  have  to  go  on  derogating  and  losing  — 
unless  you  marry  an  heiress  soon.  Are  you  a 
feudal  baron,  or  an  American  democrat?  There 
was  a  doctor  once  who  felt  as  you  do,  and  never 
could  bring  himself  to  take  a  fee.  The  people 
were  so  grateful  that  they  elected  him  to  a  public 
maintenance  in  the  prytaneum  —  which  was  in  his 
case  the  poorhouse." 


The  De  Grouts.  63 

"I  dare  say  it's  absurd,  Bob,  and  of  course  I 
have  to  support  myself ;  but  I  would  rather  do  it 
among  strangers.  The  De  Grouts  paid  me  near 
fifty  dollars  last  summer;  it  was  almost  the  first 
money  I  ever  earned." 

"  Well,  you  did  earn  it,  I  judge,  and  they  can 
afford  it." 

"Yes;  but  this  mixing  business  with  social 
relations  doesn't  seem  right.  When  they  received 
me  almost  as  a  friend,  I  felt  that  I  was  in  a  false 
position." 

"  Babe  of  the  woods,  your  position  in  that  house 
—  or  what  you  could  make  it  in  a  week,  if  you 
chose  —  would  be  envied  by  half  the  men  about 
town.  I  wouldn't  mind  taking  it  myself,  if  it 
were  transferable.  You've  struck  oil,  my  son, 
and  struck  it  rich." 

He  stared  at  me.  "  I  don't  understand.  What 
do  you  mean  ?" 

"  The  father,  for  all  his  quaint  ways,  is  one  of 
our  leading  men.  The  mother  can  do  what  she 
pleases  socially.  In  a  quiet  way  they  are  cream  of 
the  cream ;  didn't  you  know  that  ?  I  tell  you,  that 
invitation  was  an  honor,  and  I  was  in  it  only  per- 
force and  on  sufferance ;  they  are  particular  to  the 
last  degree.  Not  only  do  they  feel  indebted  to 
you,  but  they  approve  of  you,  and  like  you  ;  tastes 
vary.  The  boy  is  evidently  attached  to  you  —  I 
suppose  he  has  reason ;  and  the  others  are  inclined 
to  follow  suit ;  their  domestic  feelings  are  strong. 


64  The  De  Grouts. 

There  are  but  the  two  children,  Clint  and  Miss 
Edith.  She  is  just  out,  and  said  to  be  a  very 
superior  young  person.  By  the  way,  what  do  you 
think  of  her  looks  ?  " 

"  I  scarcely  noticed  —  or  not  especially." 

"You  didn't?  Where  were  your  eyes,  man? 
Hers  are  better;  she  noticed  you,  I  am  able  to 
inform  you.  Didn't  you  meet  her  last  commence- 
ment ?  " 

"Yes,  and  danced  with  her,  I  believe.  O 
yes,  her  brother  introduced  me ;  but  there  were 
so  many  others.  All  that  is  a  matter  of  form." 

"  It  is,  eh  ?  Your  fine  mind  was  on  Plato  and 
Confucius,  probably.  If  I  had  been  your  father 
and  had  you  in  hand  early  enough,  I  would  have 
interviewed  you  in  the  woodshed  about  twice  a 
day  till  you  learned  to  keep  your  eyes  open." 

"I  am  unobservant  at  times,  perhaps.  But 
what  are  you  so  excited  about?" 

"About  your  innate  depravity.  Why,  Bartim- 
aeus,  that  girl  is  counted  the  fairest  of  this  season's 
buds.  She  has  been  beautifully  brought  up,  and 
is  said  to  be  at  once  amiable  and  spirited.  She'll 
come  into  about  two  millions,  D.  V.,  and  mean- 
time she  has  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  of  her 
own  from  an  aunt  who  died  four  years  ago." 

He  looked  rather  bored.     "Well,  what  of  it  ?  " 

"  What  of  it  ?  Excuse  me  ;  profanity  is  against 
my  principles,  and  ordinary  language  fails  to  meet 
an  occasion  like  this.  Ought  you  not  to  take  a 


The  De  Grouts.  65 

primary  course  in  social  economy  ?  They  have 
them  now,  and  I  presume  you  can  get  one  at 
Yale." 

"  I'm  not  sure  I  understand  you,  Bob ;  I  hope  I 
don't.  If  you  mean  that  it  is  considered  the  cor- 
rect thing  in  your  circle  to  make  up  to  a  lady  in 
cold  blood  because  she  has  money,  I  must  beg  to 
remain  outside  it."  He  spoke  with  dignity,  but 
with  an  undertone  of  feeling;  he  actually  looked 
shocked,  as  if  I  had  said  something  immodest. 

I  hastened  to  pacify  him.  "  Don't  mistake  me, 
Dick.  I  quite  agree  with  you.  I  am  the  last 
man  to  defend,  not  to  say  recommend,  mercenary 
unions ;  couldn't  do  such  a  thing  myself  if  my 
salvation  depended  on  it.  But  there  is  some  sense 
in  the  old  Quaker's  advice,  '  My  son,  don't  thee 
marry  for  money,  but  go  where  money  is.'  Why 
should  you  object  to  people  because  they  happen 
to  be  well  off,  if  they  are  otherwise  unobjection- 
able ?  I've  already  tried  to  show  you  the  impor- 
tance of  associating  with  the  right  sort.  We've 
got  nothing  better  than  the  De  Grouts,  and  you 
have  lots  of  things  in  common  with  them,  —  blue 
blood,  and  high  notions,  and  cultivation,  and  all 
that.  A  studious  chap  like  you  needs  feminine 
society :  any  of  the  moralists  will  tell  you  so. 
Miss  Edith  likes  you,  and  so  does  her  mother ; 
and  they  don't  take  to  everybody  —  far  from  it. 
And  now  you're  prejudiced  against  the  poor  girl 
because  her  aunt  died  and  left  her  a  trifle.  I  ask 
you,  is  that  fair  ?  is  it  manly  ?  is  it  generous  ?  " 


66  The  De  Grouts. 

"I'm  prejudiced  against  fortune-hunting,  and 
the  odious  motives  you  seemed  to  suggest.  That 
apart,  we  went  over  this  ground  last  year.  No 
doubt  your  friends  are  very  worthy  people,  but — " 

"They're  not  my  friends  ;  they're  yours,  or  they 
wish  to  be.  Why  not  let  them  ?  Meet  them  half 
way  ;  give  them  a  trial." 

"  I  can't  meet  them  on  equal  terms.  Best  leave 
me  to  my  own,  Bob." 

"Perhaps  I  will,  if  you'll  tell  me  what  your 
own  may  be.  Not  relations,  for  you  have  none. 
Not  your  old  classmates,  for  they  are  scattered. 
Hardly  even  your  den  at  New  Haven,  for  you 
must  soon  leave  it  to  go  out  into  the  cold  world. 
I  wanted  you  to  start  fair,  under  decent  auspices  ; 
and  here  you  are  taken  into  the  arms  of  an  excel- 
lent man  who  admired  your  great-grandmother. 
There's  a  providence  in  it.  Have  you  no  filial 
feeling?" 

But  all  he  would  do  was  to  make  a  single  call  at 
De  Grout's,  where  a  cordial  reception  had  little 
visible  effect  on  his  stoicism. 


BOOK    SECOND. 


TACKVILLE   AND   MILETUS. 


CHAPTER    X. 

WESTWARD    HO. 

HAD  Dick  played  his  cards  properly,  he  might 
have  secured  in  time  a  tutorship  at  Alma  Mater. 
That  is  no  towering  height  of  greatness,  but  it 
would  have  kept  him  in  the  scholastic  seclusion 
which  seemed  his  native  air ;  so  placed,  he  could 
have  gone  on  spinning  his  beloved  theories,  and 
shunned  the  loathsome  contact  of  practicality. 
Or,  had  he  been  less  unlike  others,  he  might  have 
found  some  sort  of  position  in  the  metropolis, 
with  a  few  influential  friends  to  stand  by  him, 
protect  him  from  bunco-steerers  and  confidence 
sharps,  and  see  to  his  advancement  as  soon  as  he 
had  learned  the  A  B  C  of  useful  accomplishments 
and  business  life.  Van  Snoozer,  though  justly 
incensed  at  his  refusal  to  take  the  dancing-bear 
contract  a  year  before,  still  felt  that  something 
ought  to  be  done  for  him,  and  would  have  recom- 
mended him  as  private  secretary  to  the  golden 
uncle ;  but  then,  as  Van  remarked,  Grafton  was  so 
blanked  unmanageable,  he  might  not  understand 


70  Westward  Ho. 

the  exigencies  of  such  a  post,  and  the  implicit 
deference  due  to  a  somewhat  imperious  twenty- 
millionnaire.  Mr.  De  Grout,  I  always  believed, 
would  have  treated  Dick  like  a  son,  and  found  an 
innings  for  him  somewhere  in  the  circle  of  his 
extended  operations,  had  he  been  given  the 
opportunity. 

But  the  object  of  all  this  unavailing  good-will 
adhered  to  his  wild  idea  of  beginning  the  battle  at 
a  distance,  that  those  who  had  known  him  while 
spending  his  modest  inheritance  like  a  gentleman 
might  not  witness  the  degradation  of  efforts  to 
earn  his  bread  and  cheese,  nor  his  pride  be  hurt  by 
taking  a  dollar,  for  whatever  service,  from  a  famil- 
iar hand.  The  dwindling  of  his  resources  was 
like  the  dying  out  of  his  race ;  by  rights,  he  should 
have  changed  his  name,  as  well  as  his  habitat, 
when  he  began  to  work  for  pay.  Commonly  the 
frankest  of  men,  on  this  topic  his  lips  were  sealed  ; 
he  would  tell  no  friend  his  situation,  lest  he  should 
be  affronted  with  the  offer  of  a  loan.  His  wilful 
thoughts  turned  westward,  echoing  the  dubious 
advice  of  Mr.  Greeley  ;  there  men  were  fewer  to 
the  square  rod,  and  there  another  year  might  fin- 
ish his  legal  course.  This  saving  of  time  was 
important,  for  his  finances  with  straitest  economy 
would  hardly  last  beyond  a  twelvemonth  more. 
So  he  turned  his  face  to  the  Mississippi,  with  little 
more  thought  of  the  future  or  sense  of  adult  re- 
sponsibility than  when  he  had  abandoned  his  child- 


Westward  Ho.  71 

hood's  home  five  years  before.  No  eager  hope 
lured  him  on,  no  heavy  fear  deterred  him  ;  to  bor- 
row trouble,  or  anticipate  Eldorados,  was  not  his 
way.  A  change  had  to  be  made,  and  this  seemed 
to  him  the  correct  way  to  make  it.  It  might  be — 
as  it  proved  —  the  great  mistake  of  a  life  made  up 
of  blunders ;  but  his  uncalculating  mind,  as  yet 
unawakened  to  the  value  of  tangible  questions 
and  impotent  to  deal  with  them,  saw  no  other 
road  open,  and  committed  his  fortunes  to  the  ele- 
ments with  careless  trust.  Had  it  been  an  affair 
of  verities,  of  that  metaphysic  gardening  which 
cares  not  for  raising  fruit,  he  would  have  given  his 
best  powers  to  its  consideration  ;  but  so  long  as  it 
concerned  merely  such  trivial  carnalities  as  where 
he  should  go  and  what  he  should  do,  what  mat- 
tered it,  so  long  as  he  went  out  of  reach  of  patron- 
age and  help  ? 

The  remote  law  school  offered  little  that  was 
more  memorable  than  his  trip  thither.  By  one  so 
introspectively  absorbed  the  break  from  old  asso- 
ciations was  not  greatly  felt,  nor  any  longing  for 
new  ties.  His  diligent  application  soon  bridged 
whatever  gap  there  might  be  between  the  point 
at  which  his  studies  had  arrived  and  that  the 
graduating  class  were  supposed  to  have  reached. 
Without  active  effort  in  that  direction,  he  won  the 
favor  of  professors  and  measurably  of  his  compan- 
ions. A  winter  course  of  lectures  admitted  him 
to  the  bar,  and  then  his  shingle  was  put  up  in  a 


72  Westward  Ho. 

town  to  which  casual  advice  and  acquaintanceship 
directed  his  listless  steps. 

For  a  time  his  letters  were  tolerably  cheerful ; 
but  they  dwelt  rather  on  the  inexpensiveness  of 
living  than  on  any  rapid  professional  advancement. 
He  seemed  to  be  taking  notes  after  his  manner. 
The  people  were  unpretentious,  their  manners 
democratic,  he  said ;  he  rather  liked  that,  it  was 
so  American.  Nobody  was  rich,  judged  by  East- 
ern standards  ;  all  had  begun  humbly  like  himself, 
and  the  few  who  had  risen  highest  retained  the 
simple  habits  of  their  earlier  days.  Every  one 
worked,  and  there  need  be  no  embarrassment 
about  his  pocketing  any  fees  that  might  come ;  it 
was  no  unusual  thing  for  the  daughters  even  of 
the  comparatively  wealthy  to  accept  a  position 
behind  the  counter  or  at  the  telegraph  wires. 
Thus  the  Dignity  of  Labor  was  appreciated,  and  a 
little  money  would  go  a  long  way  where  all  were 
economists,  and  no  allowance  made  for  fashion 
and  nabob  pride.  Nor  was  the  spirit  of  the  place 
wholly  materialistic ;  societies  flourished  for  the 
promotion  of  literature  and  art,  or  of  the  interest 
of  the  members  therein.  "  Not  that  they  know 
much  about  these,"  he  admitted,  "but  they  evince 
a  creditable  desire  to  learn."  The  country  was 
sufficiently  settled,  and  had  been  more  or  less  so 
for  some  decades ;  not  only  buffaloes  but  prairie 
chickens  were  things  of  the  past,  and  emigrants 
were  moving  to  "the  West."  Society  had  out- 


Westward  Ho.  73 

grown  border  rudeness ;  the  condition  depicted  in 
certain  works  (some  of  them  more  recent  than 
this  period,  but  I  may  draw  on  subsequent  litera- 
ture to  eke  out  the  impressions  received  from 
my  friend's  epistles)  of  Messrs.  Twain,  Eggleston, 
and  Howe  belogned  to  a  region  further  south,  or 
to  a  time  long  past.  It  was  said  to  be  a  fine  farm- 
ing country,  but  this  was  not  in  his  line,  and  I 
would  be  more  interested  to  know  that  the  fishing 
was  of  a  superior  character. 

As  months  rolled  by,  these  communications 
became  more  vague  and,  as  I  thought,  less  en- 
couraging in  tone.  When  he  had  been  "in  prac- 
tice "  about  a  year  and  a  half  —  it  was  not  easy  to 
connect  the  idea  of  practice  with  poor  old  Dick  — 
business  took  me  to  Chicago  and  St.  Louis,  and  I 
went  out  of  my  way  to  see  for  myself  how  he  was 
progressing,  or  to  spy  out  the  nakedness  of  the 
land. 

I  would  willingly  describe  the  approaches  to 
Tackville,  but  there  can  be  little  to  tell  where 
there  is  nothing  to  see.  A  painter  would  have  to 
go  far  for  subjects,  for  the  only  variation  was  from 
flat  to  "rolling"  prairie,  and  the  roll  in  the  latter 
case  was  very  mild.  Never  a  rock,  and  rarely  a 
tree  except  upon  the  streams  and  in  the  villages, 
which  are  usually  called  cities.  One  does  not  get 
from  car  windows  a  favorable  view  of  these  busy 
haunts,  and  a  single  sample,  I  thought,  would 
probably  be  enough.  The  dreariness  of  the  iso- 


74  Westward  Ho. 

lated  farmhouses  oppressed  me ;  rude,  meagre, 
and  generally  unpainted,  like  the  shanties  of  Pad- 
dies and  Kanucks  near  our  northern  boundary,  but 
with  all  picturesque  surroundings  eliminated  — 
what  must  it  be  to  live  in  them  !  At  a  certain 
junction  I  had  to  wait  two  mortal  hours,  for 
trains  run  long  distances,  are  often  behind  time, 
and  usually  fail  to  connect.  There  were  few  pas- 
sengers, and  my  reading  matter  had  given  out.  I 
paced  the  platform  and  inspected  the  settlement : 
— three  habitations,  the  inevitable  grocery  and 
blacksmith  shop,  and  a  wretched  saloon,  ambi- 
tiously but  uncertainly  labelled  "  St.  Nichols 
Hotel."  I  turned  to  the  prairie, — ten  miles  of 
bleak  unbroken  flatness  under  a  sombre  sky  ;  no 
tints,  no  foliage,  hardly  a  sign  of  life. 

"  Pretty  dashed  poor  country,"  said  a  drummer 
at  my  elbow;  "too  poor  to  support  a  decent  road." 

"It  must  be  exceptional  just  here,"  I  ventured. 
"  The  state  is  prosperous  and  growing,  isn't  it  ? " 

"O  yes ;  this  is  rather  worse  than  usual.  Raises 
a  lot  of  corn  and  wheat,  and  shows  civilization  in 
the  river  towns.  The  inland  places  are  mostly 
mere  centres  of  a  little  country  trade,  and  pretty 
blanked  mean  to  stop  in  over  night,  some  of  'em. 
Why,  sir,  I've  struck  cities  around  here  that 
might  be  in  Vermont  —  reached  their  high-water 
mark,  and  going  down  hill ;  less  of  'em  now  than 
there  was  five  years  ago.  What  line  did  you  say 
you  were  in?" 


Westward  Ho.  75 

The  rest  of  the  journey  was  not  so  bad ;  but 
where  was  that  mellow  richness  one  sees  any- 
where in  the  East  —  that  air  of  being  not  only 
inhabited,  but  lived  in  ?  There,  men  have  made 
homes  in  country  as  well  as  town  —  and  better, 
some  think  ;  here,  nature  has  supplied  only  fields, 
and  human  nature  seems  to  have  done  nothing  but 
work  them.  But  tastes  differ;  we  cannot  all  live 
in  New  York  or  Boston,  and  for  those  who  like 
this  region,  I  suppose,  as  Artemus  says,  it  is  a 
kind  of  region  they  will  like. 


CHAPTER   XL 

LAW     AT    TACKVILLE. 

DICK  was  waiting  at  the  station  ;  but  for  the 
smile  of  welcome  in  his  eyes  I  should  not  have 
known  him  at  first,  for  he  had  grown  a  beard.  I 
told  him  I  preferred  to  walk  and  see  the  town  ;  he 
said  it  was  not  much  to  see,  but  we  could  take  it 
in  before  supper,  and  send  my  bag  by  the  'bus. 
So  he  marshalled  me  through  the  principal 
streets,  and  pointed  out  the  abodes  of  such  wealth, 
fashion,  beauty,  and  learning  as  the  place  con- 
tained. It  might  not  be  much,  but  it  was  a  vast 
improvement  on  the  country  ;  the  saying  about 
the  respective  makers  of  these  two  does  not  al- 
ways apply.  It  was  a  relief  to  see  trees,  and 
decent  houses,  some  of  them  standing  back  from 
the  street,  and  two  or  three  with  an  attempt  at 
lawns  and  shrubbery. 

"This  is  our  West  End,"  he  said.  "The  busi- 
ness portion  is  not  so  remarkable ;  hardly  equal 
to  Broadway,  in  fact." 


Law  at  Tackville.  77 

"Is  it  true,"  I  asked,  "that  the  percentage  of 
insanity  is  unusually  high  in  this  state  ?  " 

"  Yes.  The  farmers  came  here  young,  with  no 
money  or  but  a  few  hundreds  each.  They  had  to 
borrow  to  get  stock  and  implements.  Then  a  bad 
season,  or  a  plague  of  grasshoppers,  would  ruin 
them ;  they  couldn't  pay  their  interest,  and  the 
mortgages  would  be  foreclosed.  The  fear  of  this, 
and  the  anxious  effort  to  avoid  it,  sent  them  to 
the  asylums  in  shoals." 

"  Their  game  wasn't  worth  the  candle,  I  should 
say." 

"  They  thought  it  might  be  ;  hope  springs  eter- 
nal, you  know.  They  took  their  chances  like  the 
rest  of  us.  But  that's  not  all.  You've  been  over 
a  good  deal  of  ground  to-day ;  you  noticed  the 
aspect  of  things  ?  Well,  the  farmer's  wife  sits  all 
day  in  one  of  those  attractive  homelike  edifices, 
while  her  husband  is  out  in  the  fields ;  nothing 
to  look  at,  nobody  to  talk  to,  for  neighbors  are 
few  and  far  between.  The  lonesome  life,  and  her 
share  of  the  anxiety,  send  her  too  to  the  asylum. 
The  state  is  well  provided  in  that  way." 

"  A  cheerful  prospect ;  but  you're  better  off 
here  in  town,  surely  ?  " 

"  O  yes.  We  live  off  the  farmers  ;  sell  them 
tools  and  sugar  and  calico,  and  then  foreclose 
their  mortgages  and  send  them  to  the  asylum." 

"This  is  unpatriotic,  Dick.  But  at  least  you 
individually  are  growing  practical ;  taking  an  in- 


78  Law  at  Tackville. 

terest  in  the  humble  pursuits  and  fortunes  of  your 
neighbors." 

"O  yes:  you  have  to,  out  here.  But  this  is 
the  tavern,  and  supper  will  be  ready." 

When  that  not  too  elaborate  repast  was  ended, 
I  inspected  my  companion  more  closely.  "  Old 
man,"  I  said,  "you're  changed.  You  look  older." 

"Naturally;  it's  over  two  years  since  we  last 
met.  Then  the  transition  from  boy  to  man  goes 
for  something,  and  from  the  Atlantic  coast  to  the 
prairies.  I've  missed  the  refining  influences,  you 
see ;  you  may  expect  to  find  me  deteriorated." 

"  If  you  mean  you've  grown  less  visionary,  I'm 
glad  to  hear  it.  How  is  Lady  Law  ? " 

"  Only  so-so  to  middling.  Law  out  here,  Bob, 
is  merely  business.  Nobody  cares  for  the  science 
of  it,  and  it  is  not  so  much  a  profession  as  a  trade, 
whereby  to  command  a  little  cash,  as  one  might 
at  carpentry  or  hardware.  You  saw  those  men 
at  the  next  table  ;  where  would  you  place  them  ?  " 

"  Freight  conductors,  I  should  say,  or  bar- 
keepers. No?  Possibly  tinsmiths  ?" 

"  Three  of  them  are  my  learned  colleagues ; 
getting  on,  too.  One  of  them  is  aiming  at  the 
legislature.  That's  the  way  of  it ;  education  is 
not  required.  They  take  a  great  deal  of  pains 
with  the  public  schools,  and  the  state  proudly 
cherishes  thirteen  alleged  universities ;  but  attend- 
ance at  any  of  these  is  optional.  A  boy  may  pass 
from  the  plough's  tail  to  the  village  store,  and 


Law  at  Tackville.  79 

thence,  if  he  is  sharp,  to  the  law  school,  where 
about  ten  months,  or  two  winter  courses,  qualify 
him  to  shine  at  the  bar.  Nobody  thinks  the  worse 
of  him  for  not  having  been  to  college ;  to  go  or 
not  to  go  is  a  question  for  inclination  or  circum- 
stances to  decide,  and  discrimination  would  be  un- 
democratic. Nor  does  it  make  so  much  difference, 
as  far  as  manners  and  appearance  go.  A  necktie 
is  not  de  rigcur  in  classroom,  and  pantaloons  may 
be  worn  inside  tKe  boots,  though  that  is  not  so 
customary.  Some  of  the  professors  you  might 
take  for  machinists,  but  they  all  are  posted  in 
their  departments.  I  saw  something  of  the  col- 
lege while  I  was  finishing  my  law  at  Hector  ;  it 
stands  as  well  as  most  state  concerns,  after 
Michigan  of  course.  The  brighter  fellows  aim  at 
teaching  or  politics  ;  the  course  is  regarded  as  an 
instrument,  a  means  to  an  end,  not  as  an  intel- 
lectual necessity.  That's  all  right,  I  presume,  or 
you  ought  to  think  it  so.  You  see,  in  a  new  and 
mainly  poor  community  things  are  necessarily 
different  from  what  you've  been  used  to ;  and 
it's  to  their  credit  to  think  as  much  of  education 
as  they  do." 

"  No  doubt.  But  you  were  telling  me  about  the 
lawyers." 

"  Strange  that  I  could  digress  from  so  inspiring 
a  theme.  Well,  there  are  gentlemen  among  them 
— in  the  effete  eastern  sense  of  the  word  ;  we're 
all  gentlemen  here,  so  long  as  we  keep  out  of  jail 


8o  Law  at  Tackville. 

—  and  a  few  scholars,  in  the  larger  towns.  And 
two  of  those  you  saw  are  good  fellows  in  their 
way.  But  some  of  the  older  men  are  mere  petti- 
foggers of  a  low  type.  Oh,  I  know  you  have 
such  in  New  York,  but  scarcely  at  the  head  of  the 
local  bar.  You  should  hear  them  abuse  each  other 
in  court  by  the  hour,  as  if  their  clients  and  their 
cases  were  nothing  beside  their  personalities.  In 
pure  impudence  they  could  give  a  lesson  to  your 
shysters  at  home.  To  see  them  with  their  judi- 
cial air  on,  their  huge  assumption  of  wisdom  and 
power  and  importance,  their  lofty  contempt  for 
whoever  is  on  the  other  side,  is  a  study.  I  often 
wonder  whether  all  this  conceit  is  genuine,  or 
merely  put  on  for  effect.  Probably  the  latter ;  if 
they  were  idiots  enough  to  take  themselves  at 
their  own  pretended  valuation,  they  could  hardly 
impose  on  anybody  else.  As  it  is,  one  or  two  of 
them  make  as  much  as  twelve  hundred  a  year  by 
their  humbug.  I'm  speaking  of  a  certain  class, 
mind ;  not  of  all." 

"  Not  of  yourself,  certainly,  for  you're  one  of 
them.  I  fear  you've  been  disappointed  in  the 
results  of  this  move,  Dick." 

"Not  greatly;  blessed  is  he  that  expecteth 
nothing.  I've  learned  to  heed  some  of  your 
advice,  and  take  things  as  they  come." 

"Does  it  pay  you?     Financially,  I  mean." 

"My  office-rent,  and  mostly  my  board.  No,  I 
don't  want  any  money,  thank  you  ;  the  rest  I  eke 


Law  at  Tackville.  81 

out  by  copying  papers.  If  I  can't  live  by  law,  I 
can  try  something  else.  But  there's  time  for  all 
this  yet." 

He  looked  at  his  watch.  "It  might  be  pleas- 
anter  to  stay  here  and  talk,  but  I  promised  to 
take  you  to  a  party  at  Mrs.  Claybank's.  We're 
very  hospitable  here ;  I  tried  to  get  off  on  the 
plea  that  you  were  coming,  but  she  would  not 
forgive  me  if  you  were  not  there  too,  and  so  on. 
Distinguished  strangers  don't  arrive  every  day. 
Prepare  for  a  flutter  in  sundry  female  breasts." 

"  Glad  you've  got  to  be  a  society  man,  Richard. 
Who's  Mrs.  Claybank  ? " 

"  The  leading  lady  of  our  small  local  drama. 
Lives  in  the  biggest  of  those  houses  you  saw ; 
husband  one  of  our  foremost  merchants.  She  is 
a  very  active  person,  socially,  ecclesiastically,  phil- 
anthropically,  every  way ;  president  of  this  and 
secretary  of  that ;  gets  up  most  of  the  circles 
and  art  clubs,  and  to  some  extent  runs  the  town. 
Very  good  woman  in  her  way." 

"  I  can't  do  it,  Dick.  Sorry,  but  haven't  a  dress- 
coat  along." 

"That  garment  is  allowed  in  Hector  and  the 
larger  towns,  but  is  taboo  here.  I  wore  mine  once, 
but  found  it  attracted  too  much  attention,  and 
caused  me  to  be  regarded  as  a  haughty  and  obtru- 
sive worldling,  which  is  not  my  character,  as  you 
are  aware.  The  ladies  dress,  but  not  the  men ; 
that  is,  clean  collars  are  expected,  and  cuffs  dis- 


82  Law  at  Tackville. 

played  by  those  who  are  particular.  We  can  go 
as  we  are,  or,  if  you  want  to  be  stylish,  in  dark 
frocks." 

"Any  dancing ?     What  sort  of  girls ? " 

"An  estimable  sort,  versed  in  the  useful  and 
the  ornamental  both ;  see  and  judge  for  yourself. 
Square  dances,  and  figures  called  at  every  change. 
No  round ;  it's  a  religious  house,  though  liberal,  as 
you  will  hear." 

"  I'm  in  your  hands  ;  but  hadn't  you  better  give 
me  some  more  pointers  ?  " 

"  That's  unnecessary ;  only  don't  talk  too  much, 
and  bewilder  our  damsels  with  too  many  scintilla- 
tions of  New  York  wit,  or  expect  them  to  under- 
stand the  latest  gags.  This  is  a  simple  and  some- 
what Puritan  community.  Let  Mrs.  Claybank  talk 
to  you  ;  she'll  save  my  explaining  sundry  matters. 
You're  on  a  tour  of  observation ;  you'll  find  her 
instructive." 


CHAPTER     XII. 

MRS.    CLAYBANK. 

OUR  hostess,  a  lady  of  commanding  presence 
and  alert  air,  a  trifle  floridly  attired,  received  us 
warmly.  "  So  pleased  to  meet  any  friend  of  Mr, 
Grafton's,  and  especially  a  gentleman  fresh  from 
the  gilded  saloons  of  the  metropolis." 

Somewhat  alarmed,  I  hastened  to  assure  her 
that  I  knew  of  the  gilding  in  those  resorts  only 
by  hearsay ;  had  Grafton  been  misrepresenting  my 
habits  ? 

"  O  no ;  you  mistake  my  meaning.  But  we 
hear  so  much  of  the  gorgeous  East,  which  showers 
pearls  and  gold  on  its  inhabitants,  as  the  poet 
says ;  and  yet  I  see  you  wear  very  little  jewelry. 
Not  that  I  am  unfamiliar  with  the  East  myself;  I 
have  relatives  in  Indiana,  and  have  visited  in  Cin- 
cinnati. But  we  too  have  our  own  local  pride. 
We  may  be  recent,  but  the  future  belongs  to  us,  — 
the  vast  prairies,  the  well-nigh  illimitable  expanse, 
the  boundless  agricultural  resources  !  Really,  you 
Easterners  are  to  be  pitied,  hemmed  up  in  a  nar- 


84  Mrs.  Claybank. 

row  space,  with  your  stony  fields,  your  barren 
mountains,  and  your  narrow  and  tyrannous  restric- 
tions. Society  is  very  stiff  with  you,  is  it  not  — all 
etiquette  and  conventionality  ?  Now,  don't  imag- 
ine for  one  moment  that  I  would  reflect  on  your 
own  manners,  which  are  excellent,  I  am  sure ;  one 
might  think  you  had  been  brought  up  among  us. 
But  I  am  told  that  in  your  parts  objections  are 
made  to  a  lady's  earning  her  own  living,  and  that 
people  are  actually  ashamed  of -the  shop  by  which 
they  rose.  With  us,  Thought  is  free,  unfettered  as 
the  eagle's  flight ;  though  we  are  all  orthodox,  — 
oh  yes.  There  is  indeed  a  struggling  Universalist 
society  on  River  Street,  but  they  can't  support  a 
minister  —  a  poor  affair.  O  no,  we  do  not  look 
down  on  them ;  they  too  are  human,  as  Stuart 
Mill  says.  But  we  are  mostly  Congregationalists, 
Methodists,  or  Baptists.  We  live  in  perfect  har- 
mony ;  all  religions  are  welcome  here,  —  even  Jews 
and  Catholics,  though  we  see  little  of  them.  The 
Presbyterians  are  so  bigoted,  and  the  Lutherans 
—  ah,  well,  so  Teutonic,  and  one  may  say  un- 
refined. Yes,  there  are  a  few  Episcopalians  ;  very 
worthy  persons,  but  too  liturgical,  not  to  say  papist- 
ical ;  and,  only  think  of  it,  their  minister  doesn't 
exchange  with  ours  :  so  narrow  !  Your  own  views, 
Mr.  Tinsel?  Tolerant,  liberal?  Ah  yes.  I  am 
so  glad,  in  one  coming  from  the  East.  We  are  all 
liberal  here ;  at  least  we  ought  to  be,  with  our 
advantages,  and  that  is  the  prevalent  opinion. 


Mrs.  Clay  bank.  85 

Your  first  visit  ?  It  will  not  be  your  last,  I  pre- 
dict. You  have  so  much  to  see,  to  learn.  If  you 
stay  here  a  month  or  two,  Mr.  Timmens,  you  will 
never  be  willing  to  return  to  the  East  —  not  to 
reside  there.  You  will  become  so  attached  to 
our  ways  ;  rooted  to  the  soil,  I  may  say.  It  is 
the  universal  experience.  Those  who  have  once 
breathed  our  free  and  bracing  air,  and  been  accli- 
mated, so  to  speak,  can  no  longer  endure  the 
crowded  existence,  the  belittling  routine,  the  effete 
traditions,  of  the  older  States." 

The  lady's  eyes  were  flashing  with  what  Mr. 
Gilbert  calls  superior  gleam,  when  her  disclosures 
were  strangely  interrupted.  An  elderly  being  of 
unadorned  appearance,  with  a  rough  gray  coat,  a 
sprawling  collar,  and  a  blue  and  pink  tie,  had  been 
hovering  near.  A  rustic  grin  now  overspread  his 
countenance ;  he  thrust  forth  a  huge  and  horny 
paw,  and  poked  my  entertainer  violently  in  the 
ribs  —  or  thus  I  would  express  it  had  the  victim 
been  a  man ;  as  it  was,  let  us  say  he  indented  her 
corsage.  "  Don't  ye  run  the  young  feller  too  hard, 
Melindy ;  let  him  down  easy,  now."  Then  to  me, 
benevolently,  "  Ye  mustn't  mind  her ;  it's  only  a 
way  she  has.  She  don't  mean  no  harm." 

I  had  been  meditating  the  propriety  of  defence 
and  rescue ;  but  my  hostess  smiled  tolerantly, 
introduced  the  assailant  as  her  uncle  Jacob,  and 
sent  him  off  to  talk  to  a  female  of  lonesome,  not 
to  say  grewsome,  appearance,  stranded  in  a  corner. 


86  Mrs.  Claybank. 

Then  she  took  my  arm,  smoothed  her  rumpled 
plumage  with  the  left  hand,  and  marched  me  in 
another  direction. 

"  A  most  excellent  man,  Mr.  Tims,  and  highly 
respected.  Plain  and  unassuming ;  but  we  are 
all  plain  people  here.  Not  ashamed  of  our  origin 
—  as  why  should  we  be  ?  An  honest  man  and  a 
free  self-respecting  American  is  the  noblest  work 
of  God.  We  have  no  kings  and  dukes  here, 
thank  Heaven ;  and  so  we  make  no  idle  preten- 
sions to  be  what  we  are  not.  You  easterners 
are  not  always  very  good  Americans :  you  should 
come  to  us  to  learn  to  prize  your  birthright.  I 
must  present  you  to  some  of  our  belles  ;  but  first 
I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  Mr.  Grafton.  There 
is  a  touch-me-not  air  about  him,  as  if  he  had 
been  a  prince  of  the  blood  and  cradled  in  luxury. 
Were  his  family  anything  very  great  ? " 

"They  are  dead  now,"  I  replied;  "peace  to 
their  ashes.  They  lived  on  the  eastern  shore  of 
Maryland  from  time  immemorial,  you  know,  but 
the  war  and  what  not  reduced  them,  I  suppose ; 
so  he  had  to  make  a  new  start.  But  he's  a  fine 
fellow,  true  as  steel  and  good  as  gold." 

"  O,  I  see ;  worn-out  southern  aristocracy. 
But  that  ought  not  to  be  counted  against  him, 
poor  man.  What  is  birth  ?  I  was  born  in  a  dug- 
out and  raised  in  a  one-roomed  log  cabin.  My 
father  carted  his  corn  —  when  he  had  any  —  with 
a  mule  and  a  cow,  and  I  was  proud  to  go  along 


Mrs.  Claybank.  87 

with  a  basket  of  eggs.  I  went  barefooted  till  I 
was  fifteen  ;  and  yet  my  husband  praises  my 
complexion.  That  is  Americanism,  Mr.  Timlow. 
But  we  must  not  despise  those  who  have  been 
differently  raised.  No  one  can  say  that  I  have 
not  always  appreciated  Mr.  Grafton's  qualities; 
that  pure  classic  brow,  that  winning  manner.  But 
do  you  think  he  is  very  practical  ?  " 

"  Possibly  not ;  but  I  hope  your  free  and  bra- 
cing air,  and  the  example  of  your  noble  and  vig- 
orous democracy,  may  make  him  so.  He  needs 
stimulating  influences." 

The  lady  stiffened  visibly.  "  Don't  let  Mr. 
Claybank  hear  you  say  that ;  he  abhors  alcohol 
in  every  form.  Your  friend  will  get  neither  stim- 
ulants nor  political  sympathy  here,  with  my  con- 
sent. Democrats  indeed  !  Why,  we  are  all 
Republicans,  of  course.  I  am  not  prejudiced,  not 
the  least ;  but  what  is  there  on  the  other  side  but 
Irishmen,  rumsellers,  and  rebels  ?  You  said  you 
were  liberal,  Mr.  Tipton  ;  and  I  always  thought 
Mr.  Grafton's  habits  were  correct." 

Her  tones  were  full  of  reproach,  indignation, 
and  disappointment.  I  hastened  to  explain ;  a 
task  of  some  difficulty,  but  at  length  happily  ac- 
complished. 

"  O  well,  as  you  assure  me  that  he  is  not  a 
rebel,  he  was  wise  to  come  here,  of  course.  But 
I  sometimes  think  he  lacks  animation,  energy, 
ambition  — decision  of  character,  almost." 


88  Mrs.  Claybank. 

"Not  that,  my  dear  madam  ;  only  direction." 

"  He's  not  easily  directed  either.  He  wouldn't 
teach  in  Sabbath-school  when  I  asked  him  ;  and 
he  appears  indifferent  to  our  young  ladies.  One 
might  almost  fancy  he  held  himself  above  us  — 
though  that  is  hardly  possible." 

"Certainly  not:  he  has  too  much  sense,  and 
is  not  what  some  would  call  '  stuck  up '  at  all. 
You  see,  I've  known  him  from  a  boy.  His  pride 
is  of  the  sensitive  kind,  harmless  unless  to  its 
owner.  He  never  cared  for  girls  ;  that  is  a  grave 
fault,  I 'own.  But  he  looks  up  to  you." 

"  No  doubt.  I  have  tried  to  be  a  mother  to 
him  ;  I  will  continue  to  try.  Poor  Mr.  Grafton, 
he  needs  it,  as  you  say.  His  own  mother  must 
have  been  a  shiftless,  incompetent  person  :  those 
southern  women  generally  are.  And  he  never 
had  a  sister.  Well,  Mr.  Timothy,  you  are  not 
indifferent  to  young  ladies,  I  trust  ?  We  have 
some  lovely  ones :  in  fact,  they  are  all  lovely. 
You  must  come  to  our  sociable  and  our  prayer- 
meeting —  the  Congregational,  of  course.  And 
wouldn't  you  like  to  lecture  before  the  art  club  ? 
No  ?  Well  then,  the  literary  circle.  It  is  almost 
wholly  composed  of  ladies ;  the  gentlemen  are 
too  busy  to  attend.  We  have  gone  over  nearly 
all  the  poets;  Milton  is  the  next  subject.  But 
we  would  be  charmed  to  hear  you  on  any  topic. 
No  formality,  you  know." 

Presently  Dick   came   up    with   a   Major  Way. 


Mrs.  Claybank.  89 

"This  is  our  great  fisherman,  Bob.  He'll  take  us 
up  stream  to-morrow,  if  you  say  so,  and  show  you 
more  bass  than  you  ever  saw."  We  had  barely 
made  an  appointment,  when  Mrs.  Claybank  car- 
ried me  off  to  her  bevy  of  attendant  maidens, 
whose  varying  charms  I  need  not  inventory  here. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

NATURE  AND  HUMAN  NATURE. 

IT  was  hardly  past  midnight  when  we  reached 
Dick's  office,  an  upstairs  room  in  a  corner  build- 
ing. "  You  see  our  humble  efforts  at  festivity 
are  small  and  early,"  said  he.  "  Do  you  want 
to  sit  up  and  talk,  or  are  you  tired  ?  Not  from 
the  dissipation,  but  your  journey." 

"  O  no !  There's  not  so  much  to  see  that  I 
need  be  fatigued  by  it.  Your  scenery  is  not  what 
you  can  call  overpowering." 

"  That's  our  weak  point.  In  the  East  you 
can  fall  back  on  Nature  when  you  are  tired  of 
men,  and  she  has  something  to  say  to  you.  Here 
we  have  nothing  except  the  river :  I  prize  that 
as  a  relief.  It's  not  merely  the  water,  but  the 
land  keeps  such  beauty  as  she  has  'for  the  banks. 
We'll  take  the  day  to  it,  if  you  like.  Will  a  cold 
lunch  content  you?" 

"  Surely,  if  there's  any  sport.  But  can  you 
spare  the  whole  day  ?  " 

"  O,  business  is  not  so  pressing ;  I  often  do  it, 


Nature  and  Human  Nature.  91 

Then  Way  is  worth  knowing ;  more  companion- 
able than  most.  He  fought  through  the  war, 
and  came  out  of  it  with  broken  health  ;  has  his 
pension,  some  property,  and  a  nominal  business, 
but  really  represents  the  leisure  class,  which  is 
rare  in  these  parts.  He  goes  off  in  winter,  and 
when  here  spends  most  of  his  time  on  the  river. 
It's  a  wise  choice,  for  the  river  is  the  best  thing 
about  here.  Fishing  is  his  passion,  and  we  get 
the  benefit  of  his  skill  and  tackle." 

"  Good.  But  we  were  to  discuss  your  social 
phenomena.  Who's  that  Miss  Edwards  ?  " 

"  I  thought  you'd  notice  her.  She's  a  Yankee, 
one  of  the  numerous  descendants  of  Jonathan  ; 
teaches  in  the  schools,  and  helps  support  a  wid- 
owed mother ;  would  rather  do  it  at  home  if  she 
could,  I  fancy.  O,  there  are  a  few  eastern 
people  here  ;  but  most  of  them  are  to  the  manner 
born,  or  come  from  not  far  across  the  Mississippi. 
They  think  this  section  is  the  world's  garden  and 
granary  and  treasure-house,  and  much  beyond 
the  rest  of  the  Union.  I  suppose  you  heard  all 
that  ? " 

"  O,  yes  !  Mrs.  Claybank  is  a  four-horse  team. 
But  I  say,  is  it  usual  for  gentlemen  to  punch 
ladies  in  the  side  before  a  promiscuous  assem- 
blage, or  is  it  merely  a  privilege  of  relationship  ?  " 

"  The  patriarchs  do  it  to  any  one,  even  on  a  first 
meeting,  if  they  feel'  friendly  enough.  At  least 
Uncle  Jacob  does ;  he's  a  cordial  old  soul.  Nobody 


92  Nature  and  Human  Nature. 

takes  it  amiss  from  him ;  but  it's  not  expected  of 
us,  so  you  needn't  practise  it  as  a  new  accomplish- 
ment. Well,  as  you  used  to  ask  me  when  you 
had  taken  me  out  in  New  York,  what  are  your 
impressions  ?  " 

"  Mixed,  like  the  company.  We  could  hardly 
duplicate  the  hostess  in  Gotham.  But  do  you 
think  her  guests,  taken  all  in  all,  are  any  improve- 
ment on  Mrs.  Magellan's  ?  " 

"They  are  not  so  far  removed  from  primitive 
nature,  if  that's  any  recommendation.  I'm  not 
sure  it  is." 

"You're  not  much  more  of  a  ladies'  man  than 
you  were,  after  all.  Mrs.  Claybank  intimates  that 
the  girl  of  the  locality  is  not  to  your  taste.  You 
don't  find  them  more  attractive  than  Miss  De 
Grout,  then  ? " 

"  I  didn't  come  here  for  society,  Bob.  Of 
course  that  is  like  the  scenery ;  with  rare  excep- 
tions, flat.  This  is  not  the  place  to  study  char- 
acter :  you've  already  seen  the  best  of  our 
eccentricities,  except  my  neighbor  in  the  next 
room  ;  and  assuredly  you  wouldn't  come  here  for 
culture.  We  are  neither  one  thing  nor  the  other ; 
we  miss  alike  the  picturesqueness  of  a  new  border 
settlement,  and  the  ripeness  of  an  old  community 
that  understands  itself  and  can  look  behind.  We 
have  no  background,  no  past ;  people  neither 
know  nor  care  who  were  their  grandfathers.  A 
town  not  far  off  was  lately  jubilating  over  its 


Nature  and  Human  Nature.  93 

twenty-fifth  anniversary;  there's  history  for  you! 
The  aristocracy  here,  as  far  as  we  have  any,  is 
in  theory  the  '  Old  Settlers  ; '  in  practice,  those 
who  have  made  thirty  thousand  or  so.  Grocers 
and  dry-goods  men  live  in  the  best  houses,  and 
rather  look  down  on  doctors  and  lawyers  ;  nor 
is  there  much  to  choose  in  mind  and  manners, 
as  I  told  you.  As  for  the  parsons,  they  are  ex- 
pected to  pay  not  more  than  a  hundred  dollars 
rent,  and  to  cringe  to  their  employers." 

"  Why,  man,  Mrs.  Claybank  was  bragging  about 
the  enlightened  toleration  and  liberalism  here,  as 
against  our  hidebound  bigotry  in  the  East.  I 
thought  your  ministers  must  be  fed  on  Mill  and 
Darwin,  and  ladle  out  the  Religion  of  the  Future 
every  week." 

"  It  wouldn't  be  safe  for  them  to  try  it,  if  they 
knew  how.  Stay  over  Sunday,  and  you'll  see 
what  sort  of  doctrine  we  get.  I  don't  say  the 
western  spirit  isn't  in  some  respects  freer  than 
the  eastern  ;  our  dominant  puritanism  has  changed 
its  tone  a  little  with  the  change  of  scene  and 
climate.  We  are  less  wedded  to  old  opinions  be- 
cause we  know  less  about  them  ;  so  the  fetters 
of  theology  are  relaxed  slightly.  '  Liberal '  is  a 
fine  word,  and  popular  in  proportion  to  its  vague- 
ness ;  the  tendency  is  that  way,  but  they  don't 
know  —  how  should  they?  There's  a  man  in 
Hector  who  has  read  parts  of  Draper's  Intellect- 
ual Development,  and  thinks  himself  an  oracle  ; 


94  Nature  and  Human  Nature. 

Buckle  and  Lecky  he  had  never  heard  of,  when 
I  chanced  to  mention  them." 

"  I  say,  old  boy,  do  you  go  to  church  much  ?  " 
"  Sometimes.  I  did  when  I  first  came,  to  catch 
the  tone;  I  caught  it.  Oh,  you  heard  of  that 
Sunday-school  business  ?  They  wanted  me  to 
teach  Shorter  Catechism,  and  I  couldn't.  Yet  you 
see,  I  am  still  invited  out.  That  is  their  liber- 
alism ;  in  New  York  or  New  Haven  I  would  have 
been  sent  to  Coventry  at  once  —  or  so  Mrs.  Clay- 
bank  probably  supposes.  But  this  is  petty  detail ; 
let's  take  a  larger  view.  Our  winters  and  sum- 
mers are  both  severe,  lacking  the  remotest  in- 
fluence from  sea  or  mountains  ;  not  an  elevation 
of  the  ground,  or  body  of  water  worth  mentioning 
within  hundreds  of  miles.  Well,  you  know  what 
that  means.  '  Depressing,'  the  natives  call  it  in 
July,  though  the  mercury  goes  no  higher  than  on 
the  sound.  Depressing !  I  should  say  it  was, 
and  the  year  round.  Why?  Because  the  mind 
of  man  follows  the  face  of  Nature,  and  where 
she  presents  no  great  or  lovely  objects  he  will  be 
a  crawling  cripple.  Your  New  York  is  big  and 
bad,  but  the  Hudson  and  the  Catskills  ought  to 
save  it ;  and  Baltimore  can't  go  altogether  to  the 
dogs  while  the  Bay  is  at  hand.  A  man  may  be 
chained  to  his  desk  in  those  cities,  but  he  knows 
there  is  something  glorious  not  far  off,  and  that 
propinquity  keeps  him  up,  if  he  is  not  a  mere 
muckworm.  Nature,  when  she  gives  a  decent 


Nature  and  Human  Nature.  95 

account  of  herself,  is  an  educator  and  a  spirit- 
ual leaven :  here,  she  is  barefooted  and  out  at 
elbows,  fit  only  to  raise  crops,  and  support 
wretches  who  are  content  with  salt  pork  and  the 
local  paper.  A  country  without  trees,  hills,  and 
waterfalls  is  God-forsaken  indeed :  what  can  you 
expect  of  those  who  live  in  it  ?  An  Adirondac 
guide  ought  to  have  more  mental  force  and  bright- 
ness than  a  graduate  of  our  State  University.  A 
Maine  fisherman  will  give  you  more  points  of 
character  and  quaint  discourse  in  an  hour  than 
you  will  get  from  the  whole  population  here  in  a 
month.  No,  I'm  not  forgetting  Mrs.  Claybank. 
She's  only  bizarre,  not  original ;  but  she's  of  some 
value  as  the  concentrated  essence  of  this  region  : 
when  you've  heard  her,  you  know  it  all." 

"  She's  an  admirable  person,  Dick,  as  you  say  ; 
but  isn't  she  somewhat  disconnected  —  lack  of 
mental  continuity,  you  know  ?" 

"  Of  course.  Her  speech  goes  beyond  her 
thought,  and  her  thought  overlaps  such  basis  as 
she  has  for  thinking.  She  picks  up  a  word  here 
and  an  idea  there,  and  her  active  brain  pieces 
them  together  anyhow  in  crazy-quilt  fashion, 
without  waiting  to  get  a  pattern,  or  see  what 
her  materials  mean  and  what  relation  they  bear 
to  each  other.  All  this  is  not  merely  personal, 
but  typical.  Such  is  our  style  here :  life  is  short, 
and  we  can't  take  time  to  study  a  subject  down 
to  the  ground,  or  follow  out  a  line  of  thought. 


g6  Nature  and  Human  Nature, 

I  like  her  talk,  it  contradicts  the  facts  with  such 
naive  simplicity  and  exemplary  confidence.  Look 
at  this :  we  know  but  two  kinds  of  dimension, 
vertical  and  horizontal.  Now  how  can  you  have 
any  adequate  idea  of  elevation  till  you've  seen  a 
mountain,  or  of  extension  but  from  the  sea?" 

Here  I  interrupted  his  sophistry.  "  She  talks 
of  the  illimitable  vastness  of  the  prairies  ;  and  so 
do  others.  I've  heard  that  often." 

"  Illimitable  bosh.  One  gets  mortally  tired  of 
that  rot  about  the  prairies;  what  are  they  but 
great  fields  stretched  out  ad  nauseam,  with  or 
without  fences  and  cultivation  ?  A  lot  of  land 
as  flat  as  a  floor  is  no  better  than  so  much  water  ; 
and  who  cares  for  that,  out  of  sight  of  shore  ? " 

"  Why,  you've  just  been  saying  that  the  sea 
was  the  salt  of  life,  so  to  speak,  as  beautiful  and 
precious  as  the  mountains." 

"  Evidently  you've  not  been  at  debating  society 
of  late,  Bob.  It's  the  sea  and  land  together  we 
care  about,  the  sea  as  seen  from  the  land.  We 
don't  want  to  live  on  it,  not  being  aquatic  animals. 
Mountains  are  best,  I  think,  though  I'm  not  so 
used  to  them.  Where  I  was  brought  up,  it  was 
as  level  as  here,  but  we  had  the  water,  and  plenty 
of  it.  Wisconsin  and  Minnesota  have  their  lakes 
—  not  large,  but  numerous  and  pretty  ;  when  you 
see  Minnetonka  and  Fort  Snelling,  you  might 
fancy  yourself  in  the  East.  Minnehaha  is  a  real 
cascade,  with  some  rocks ;  it  wouldn't  be  noticed 


Nature  and  tfuman  Nature.  97 

in  your  state,  but  it's  a  great  feature,  and  very 
creditable.  We  go  there  from  six  states  to  polish 
up  our  intellects,  as  the  richer  folks  in  the  larger 
towns  go  East,  and  as  you  go  to  Europe.  The 
lower  Mississippi  may  have  its  points,  and  it  has 
been  settled  longer.  West,  if  you  go  far  enough, 
there  is  plenty  of  material.  The  Rockies  and 
the  Pacific  slope  have  their  literature  already ; 
the  South  is  getting  it ;  New  England  has  had 
it  since  Americans  began  to  write.  They  have 
traits,  as  they  have  landscapes  ;  but  such  efforts 
as  have  been  made  to  immortalize  this  middle 
region  have  failed  totally,  or  succeeded  only  in 
the  realistic  way  as  strong  photographs  of  the 
deadly  dismal.  What  great  poem  or  novel  ever 
dealt  with  a  land  that  had  no  hills  or  lakes  or 
forests  ? " 

"You've  got  me  now,  though  they  might  be 
able  to  answer  that  at  Yale.  Then,  according  to 
you,  all  this  section  has  no  future  at  all  ?  " 

"  O  yes,  a  fourth-rate  future.  Time  will  mend 
it  somewhat.  I  suppose  cities  of  the  plain,  away 
from  coasts,  may  amount  to  something  —  when 
they  have  a  history.  But  in  a  new  country 
whose  natural  features  are  conspicuous  by  their 
absence,  society  is  inevitably  raw,  and  men  and 
women  in  the  brown  sugar  or  crude  petroleum 
stage.  Still,  my  neighbors  are  redeemable.  Do 
you  know  why  I  think  so  ?  Look  at  the  flowers 
in  their  windows,  and  the  trees  they  have  planted 


98  Nature  and  Human  Nature. 

along  the  streets.  And  they  have  all  their  pic- 
nics on  the  river." 

"Dick,  I  never  supposed  you  cared  so  much  for 
scenery." 

"  Because  I  didn't  make  a  fuss  over  it  when  I 
had  it  ?  Try  to  live  a  year  or  two  without  it,  and 
you'll  learn  what  part  it  plays  in  life.  But  the 
wind  is  tempered  to  the  shorn  sheep,  and  we'll 
take  in  the  river  to-morrow." 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

UP    THE    RIVER. 

THE  Major  sat  at  the  bow,  and  I  at  the  stern, 
with  a  bait-pail  for  each,  and  Dick  to  share  mine  ; 
I  trailed  a  long  line  behind  as  we  sped  up  stream. 
Above  the  town  it  widened  into  marshes,  called 
by  natives  sloughs,  though  they  bear  no  resem- 
blance to  that  into  which  Bunyan's  Pilgrim  fell ; 
the  water  is  clear,  and  some  feet  deep,  they  told 
me,  and  boys  go  there  for  sunfish  and  baby  bass. 
Aiming  at  larger  game,  we  kept  in  mid-channel. 
"I'm  doing  my  Christian  duty,  sir,"  said  our 
leader,  "and  giving  you  the  chance  of  the  first 
fish." 

Suddenly  I  felt  a  tug;  the  reel  whirred. 
"You've  got  him,"  Dick  cried.  For  a  moment 
—  this  style  of  procedure  being  then  new  to  me  — 
I  was  tempted  to  drop  the  rod,  and  pull  in  hand 
over  hand  like  a  greenhorn.  Subduing  this  weak- 
ness, I  reeled  in  rapidly.  Grafton  made  a  dash 
with  the  landing-net ;  a  two-pounder  came  over 
the  side,  and  lay  flopping.  "Lake  bass,"  Way 


ioo  Up  the  River. 

commented  ;  "  nearly  as  good  as  the  black  ;  can't 
tell  the  difference  by  the  way  they  pull.  Consider 
yourself  initiated,  Mr.  T." 

"  Not  much  science  in  that,"  I  confessed,  as  I 
put  on  a  new  bait. 

"  Can't  be,  in  trolling.  If  he  isn't  well  hooked 
at  his  first  plunge,  he  won't  be,  and  to  stop  the 
boat  and  let  you  play  him  might  only  increase  the 
risk  of  losing  him.  Trolling  is  all  chance ;  but 
you'll  see  something  that  isn't,  before  long.  Aha, 
you've  got  another." 

So  I  had,  and  presently  a  third  ;  after  that,  a 
blank  interval. 

"  Would  it  pay  to  go  back,  and  try  that  ground 
again  ? " 

"  Hardly ;  a  spurt  like  that  never  lasts.  We 
might  row  up  and  down  there  all  day,  and  not  get 
another  bite.  Good  beginning,  though.  Go  for 
the  right  bank,  Boggs :  I  want  to  try  those 
bushes." 

The  Major's  gaunt  figure  stood  erect ;  his  eyes 
were  searching  a  low  shore,  heavily  fringed  with 
brush.  At  thirty  feet  distance  he  made  a  cast, 
direct  for  the  largest  clump,  it  seemed.  "  Missed, 
by  Jove !  That's  a  grandfather.  Back  water, 
Boggs  ;  out  a  little.  Steady  now." 

These  instructions  were  delivered  in  a  voice 
just  audible. 

"But,  Major,"  I  ventured,  "if  you  saw  him  he's 
seen  you,  and  won't  come  back." 


Up  the  River.  101 

"  Saw  him,  no  :  I  saw  his  signs,  and  felt  him. 
Look  how  he's  torn  the  bait ;  but  it'll  do."  He 
cast  again ;  the  glistening  minnow  dashed  over 
one  twig  and  dived  beneath  another.  "  Pull  now 
—  away  from  shore ! "  The  rod  bent,  the  line 
went  out,  came  in,  went  out  to  sixty  feet  or  more ; 
the  great  fish  Cashed  up  stream  and  down,  this 
way  and  that.  For  thirty  breathless  minutes  we 
sat  and  watched  the  struggle  between  instinct 
and  intelligence,  between  fins  and  fingers,  the 
fight  for  life  on  one  hand,  for  victory  on  the  other. 
An  idle  waste  of  time,  you  say  ?  Try  it,  and  see 
if  not  merely  the  hour,  but  the  day  that  holds  it, 
is  not  repaid.  A  fishing-rod  is  "  a  stick  with  a 
hook  at  one  end  and  a  fool  at  the  other,"  is  it  ? 
In  some  cases,  perhaps  ;  but  plainly,  Doctor  Dog- 
matist Johnson,  you  were  never  in  a  boat  with 
Major  Way.  Had  the  pole  and  reel  been  in  your 
thick  thumbs,  your  aphorism  might  have  been 
justified ;  but  had  it  once  been  your  privilege  to 
see  them  in  a  master's  hand  when  a  big  bass  was 
straining  at  the  other  end  of  the  electric  line,  you 
never  would  have  written  yourself  down  such  an 
ass. 

At  length  the  net  engulfed  the  victim,  and 
sighs  of  relief  ascended. 

"  Well,  Major,"  said  I,  "  your  first  will  beat  my 
three." 

"  About  even,  I  think."  He  drew  a  scale  from 
his  pocket.  "  Just  over  five  pounds.  One  of 


IO2  Up  the  River. 

eight  was  caught  below  the  dam  last  week  ;  but 
this  is  very  fair  for  up  here.  Dick,  you  might 
string  them  in  two  bunches,  and  hang  over  the 
side.  Now  for  the  head  of  the  island." 

He  sat  down,  wiped  his  brow,  and  filled  his 
pipe,  while  we  gazed  admiringly,  now  on  him,  and 
now  on  his  prey,  as  with  wiggling  protests  it  fol- 
lowed our  course,  tied  securely  to  a  thwart. 

"  What  comes  next  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Still-fishing  for  small  bass  in  a  sharp  current, 
among  the  branches  of  a  big  tree,"  said  Dick. 
"  You  lose  an  average  of  two  hooks  for  each  fish. 
Sometimes  the  bass  are  there  and  sometimes  not, 
but  the  snags  are  reliable." 

The  town  was  out  of  sight  now,  and  the  river 
had  changed  its  character ;  its  depth  was  less, 
its  banks  higher  and  more  thickly  wooded.  About 
these  varying  shores  —  here  meadow,  there  appar- 
ent forest  —  it  curved  and  twisted  blithesomely, 
dividing  itself  by  sandbars  and  green  islets. 
Above  one  of  these  we  paused,  and  tied  to  a 
protruding  branch. 

"  Take  in  the  fish,"  said  our  chief ;  "  too  risky 
to  leave  'em  out ;  too  much  current,  and  far  too 
much  tree.  None  of  us  would  love  this  spot  if 
the  bass  didn't.  Curious  tastes  they  have ;  I  like 
my  wood  and  water  best  apart,  but  fish  prefer  'em 
mixed.  Short  lines  now,  and  sinkers ;  and  pull 
up  every  minute,  or  you'll  get  fast.  That's  too 
far  south,  young  man." 


Up  the  River.  103 

I  had  thrown  cautiously,  as  I  thought,  but  the 
bait  went  careering  rapidly  down  stream.  "Where 
are  the  fish  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Underneath,  mixed  up  with  the  tree ;  perhaps 
they've  made  nests  inside.  The  problem  is  to 
find  them  at  home  without  disturbing  their  fur- 
niture, which  we  have  no  use  for.  Here's  one  ;  " 
and  the  visitor  came  swinging  over  the  side.  "  No 
nets  just  now,  thanks.  These  animals  combine 
the  habits  of  the  turtle  with  those  of  the  wood- 
pecker and  tree-toad  ;  if  they  take  hold  they'll 
keep  it,  and  if  you  can  disentangle  them  from  the 
branches  you  have  no  trouble  to  lift  them  out  of 
the  water." 

In  fifteen  minutes  we  had  taken  as  many  bass, 
a  weight  of  perhaps  twenty  pounds,  and  lost  but 
five  hooks.  "  Enough  of  this ;  we'd  better  go 
while  we  can  with  unimpaired  self-respect.  Now 
for  the  cut-off  and  the  croppies.  We  could  sail 
up  there  if  we  had  brought  the  canvas,  but  with 
our  work  it's  mostly  in  the  way.  A  fair  mess  "  — 
he  surveyed  the  striped  sides  and  shining  bellies 
under  foot  —  "but  all  one  kind,  except  for  black 
and  yellow.  We  must  have  a  variety.  Dick,  if 
the  croppies  don't  bite  and  we  can't  raise  a  pick- 
erel, you'll  have  to  sit  on  the  bank  and  catch 
us  a  dogfish. — You  don't  know  dogfish?  Great 
coarse  thing,  full  of  oil  and  not  fit  to  give  to  the 
pigs.  The  first  one  Grafton  caught  broke  his 
pole ;  he  was  out  with  a  boy,  up  the  creek, 


104  Up  the  River. 

before  he  fell  in  with  me.  He  thought  it  was 
a  prize,  and  dragged  it  back  two  miles  on  foot, 
a  redhot  August  day.  Then  nobody  would  have 
it  as  a  gift :  they  told  him  it  was  poisonous,  and 
made  him  take  it  away  and  throw  it  in  the  river. 
Haw,  haw  !  " 

The  Major,  who  had  been  somewhat  glum  and 
silent  at  the  start,  was  now  happy  and  even  hila- 
rious. Dick's  spirits  too  had  risen ;  he  seemed 
another  man  from  the  lugubrious  critic  of  last 
night.  It  was  a  heavenly  October  day,  and  no 
other  human  beings,  nor  any  signs  of  their  exist- 
ence, were  in  sight.  We  were  out  of  the  world, 
far  from  the  crowd  and  scramble,  gone  back  to 
primeval  paradise  —  but  for  the  implements  we 
carried  and  the  victims  at  our  feet.  They  missed 
something  in  Eden,  as  Brahmins  and  vegetarians 
do  to-day. 

"  Say,  Major,"  upspoke  the  oarsman,  "  yonder's 
some  ducks.  Pity  we  hain't  a  gun  along.  Burned 
pooty  shot."  But  on  such  a  day  even  I  was  con- 
tent to  have  no  blood  on  my  hands.  Fish  have 
scarcely  any,  and  do  not  count ;  the  lively  things 
that  cleave  the  air,  or  walk  the  earth  like  us,  seem 
much  nearer  to  our  humanity. 

The  cut-off  is  a  section  of  the  river,  severed 
from  the  main  stream  by  a  long  and  narrow  island. 
No  fields  line  its  banks  ;  no  habitation,  or  fence, 
or  domestic  animal,  or  reminder  of  intrusive  man, 
is  there,  but  thick  woods  and  tangled  vines  on 


Up  the  River.  105 

either  side,  and  here  and  there  such  wealth  of 
pebbles  as  in  that  region  you  may  not  see  in  a 
week's  journey,  away  from  the  water.  You  think 
there  is  no  beauty  in  a  stone  ?  Sojourn  there 
awhile,  and  when  you  escape  you  will  sit  up  at 
night,  if  there  be  a  moon,  to  see  rocks  from  the 
car  windows. 

"I  might  take  a  swim  here,"  I  suggested.  "No 
danger  of  meeting  ladies  ?  " 

"  Too  cold ;  that's  all.  If  you  were  up  here 
every  day,  you  might  meet  twenty  fishermen's 
boats  in  the  year,  and  two  or  three  farmers'  girls 
after  wild  grapes. —  Now  put  her  against  the  bank  : 
we'll  fish  around  that  stump,  about  five  feet  deep. 
Use  corks  here." 

I  soon  learned  what  a  croppy  is  :  as  round  as  a 
sunfish,  but  silvery  white,  and  weighing  from  six 
ounces  to  two  pounds  ;  not  a  game  fish  like  the 
genuine  bass,  but  its  broad  flat  side  against  the 
water  makes  a  strong  pull,  and  its  tender  mouth 
requires  delicate  handling,  or  the  larger  ones  break 
from  the  hook  :  its  flesh  is  soft,  but  good  eating. 
They  came  zealously  to  our  call ;  for  half  an  hour 
the  four  lines  were  busy.  Then  we  strung  our 
spoil  over  the  boat's  side,  and  climbed  a  high  bank 
for  lunch.  A  soft  carpet  of  moss  played  chairs 
and  table,  yellowing  leaves  of  maple  and  oak  the 
ceiling,  and  through  abundant  windows  we  had  a 
water  view  east  and  north. 

"  This  is  glorious,"  I  cried  ;  "  worth  coming  all 
this  way  for,  Dick,  apart  from  you." 


106  Up  the  River. 

"  I  told  you  it  was  the  best  thing  here,"  he  said  ; 
"by  far  the  best." 

"  I  go  further,"  Way  remarked  with  solemnity  : 
"it's  the  best  thing  in  life.  I'm  older  than  you 
two :  I've  seen  most  parts  of  the  country,  and 
most  ways  of  living.  Some  men  prefer  shooting, 
or  driving,  or  dancing;  some  enjoy  grubbing  in  a 
store,  or  mooning  over  a  book  ;  some  like  to  make 
a  home,  and  have  wife  and  children  round  their 
heels.  But  give  me  a  boat,  and  a  stream  like  this, 
or  one  of  the  Wisconsin  lakes,  and  a  light  wind, 
and  company  of  the  right  sort  —  here's  to  you, 
gentlemen  —  and  the  bass  biting,  and  I've  got  the 
best  this  planet  can  give.  Fact  is,  I  can't  live  any 
other  way.  I've  tried  it.  It's  hard  for  me  to  get 
through  the  winters :  I  should  want  to  die  before 
spring,  if  it  wasn't  for  this  ahead." 

We  were  all  silent  awhile.  "  If  you'll  stay  a 
fortnight,  Mr.  T.,  I'll  show  you  all  there  is  on  this 
part  of  the  river.  I  can't  promise  luck  like  this  — 
it's  above  par  to-day ;  but  there  are  other  places 
we  could  try,  off  the  main  track."  I  told  him  I 
should  like  nothing  better,  but  my  limit  was  three 
days  ;  this  visit  was  but  a  brief  respite  from  busi- 
ness. "  Ah  yes,  business  :  I  never  let  it  inter- 
fere with  fishing.  In  the  next  world  perhaps 
there  will  be  no  business :  that  would  suit  Grafton 
too." 

I  must  condense  the  record  of  that  golden  day, 
so  rich  in  the  book  of  memory,  so  poor  and  trivial 


Up  the  River.  107 

on  the  printed  page.  The  flashing  rapids,  where 
we  warily  cast  a  long  line  for  tourist  pickerel  or 
bass ;  the  peaceful  secluded  bays,  that  gave  sur- 
prised yet  tranquil  welcome  to  what  might  seem 
the  first  white  men's  oar ;  the  bed  of  reeds  in  a 
broad  reach  of  water,  from  whose  border  we  lured 
one  lonesome  perch  who  must  have  been  pining 
for  his  multitudinous  kinsfolk  far  away.  "  Do  you 
always  have  as  much  variety  as  this  ? "  I  asked. 

"  We  can  if  we  want  it  —  of  place  at  least,  and 
exercise  :  as  to  the  fish,  that's  as  they  please.  But 
the  less  we  get  of  them,  the  more  we  move  about 
and  commune  with  nature.  There  are  queer  nooks 
you've  not  seen  yet.  That's  the  beauty  of  it  :  it's 
not  like  sitting  on  a  bank  and  watching  a  float  all 
day." 

My  respectful  recollection  goes  back  to  the 
wall-eyed  pike,  rare  bird  at  that  season  and  in 
that  part  of  the  stream,  which  the  Major's  deft 
hand  extracted  from  a  certain  rippling  by-path ; 
and  to  sundry  big  bass  —  but  none  to  rival  the 
five-pounder  —  that  made  free  with  the  hooks  of 
one  or  two  unskilled  pretenders,  and,  pleading  pre- 
vious engagements,  resolutely  declined  to  accom- 
pany us  home.  I  am  not  strong  in  natural  history, 
but  I  made  some  observations  in  that  field,  aside 
from  the  main  and  more  profitable  business  of  the 
hour.  A  large  sunfish  joined  our  party  uninvited, 
with  half  his  side  bare  and  his  red  gills  exposed. 
We  had  no  surgery  for  his  case,  but,  thus  horribly 


108  Up  the  River. 

wounded  days  or  weeks  before  by  some  pirate  of 
the  shallow  waters,  he  tugged  at  the  hook  as 
vigorously  and  returned  to  his  native  weeds  as 
merrily  as  if  he  were  sound.  Another  intruder 
was  a  rock  or  stump  bass  (a  small  and  despised 
variety)  crossed  in  some  abnormal  way  with  a 
wholly  different  species. 

Far  up  stream  we  had  landed  to  stretch  our 
limbs,  and  laid  our  rods  on  a  high  bank  that  over- 
hung the  deepest  hole  for  miles.  Here  Boggs 
with  objurgatory  clamor  pulled  to  the  surface  a 
snapper,  and  kept  him  there  to  break  loose  if  he 
could ;  when  lo,  from  the  depths  appeared  an- 
other, which  followed  the  prisoner  about,  pawed 
at  his  shell,  and  strove  to  rescue  him  from  his 
misplaced  attachment.  Such  domestic  affection 
in  that  rank  of  life  seemed  unfamiliar  enough  to 
deserve  encouragement :  the  angry  oarsman,  forced 
at  length  to  drag  his  unwelcome  captive  ashore, 
would  have  committed  unsportsmanlike  destruc- 
tion, but  our  intercessions,  rising  to  commands, 
restored  the  turtle,  with  mouth  injured  no  more 
than  was  inevitable,  to  liberty  and  the  presumed 
embraces  of  his  mate. 

As  we  rapidly  sped  homeward,  the  chill  of 
approaching  evening  seemed  to  have  touched  our 
spirits.  "  Ah,  well,"  said  the  Major,  "  everything 
must  end.  Pity  one  has  to  sleep  in  town,  and 
spend  the  evenings.  It's  tame,  after  this."  Dick 
nodded  a  discouraged  assent.  I,  who  had  a  hun- 


Up  the  River.  109 

dred  interests  in  the  crowd,  had  been  finding  satis- 
faction too  in  its  momentary  remoteness,  and 
could  almost  sympathize  with  these  misanthropes 
—  the  worn  veteran  who  had  tried  Life  and  found 
this  sequestered  stream  the  best  of  it,  the  dreaming 
neophyte  who  thought  it  not  worth  the  trial.  The 
rower  alone  was  jovial,  meditating  on  a  fish  sup- 
per, and  dollars  to  be  gained  from  his  finny  wares. 

Suddenly  our  chief  roused  himself  from  his 
abstraction.  "  Dick,  you  must  show  our  friend 
your  pet  rock  bass. —  He  got  off  Grafton's  hook 
last  year,  and  swallowed  it.  Dick  takes  him  in 
whenever  we  stop  there,  for  old  acquaintance, 
sake,  and  sees  if  he's  safe." 

We  paused  at  a  partly  submerged  tree,  and 
Dick  dropped  three  feet  of  line,  which  came  up 
instantly  with  a  five-inch  fish.  "  See,  his  throat 
has  grown  over  that  hook  to  the  head  of  it,  and 
he  doesn't  mind  it  at  all." 

"  You  don't  mean  you've  had  him  in  your  hands 
before  ?" 

"  Often ;  he's  marked,  you  see,  and  less  of  the 
steel  is  visible  each  week.  Next  time  it  will  be 
out  of  sight.  We've  watched  the  process  with 
interest :  he  grows  fat  on  it." 

As  we  neared  the  boat-house,  our  trophies  were 
removed  from  the  water,  where  they  had  kept 
fresh ;  six  heavy  strings.  "-We'll  send  a  mess  to 
Mrs.  Claybank  with  our  compliments,  and  take 
specimens  to  the  hotel ;  that  will  leave  about  forty 
pounds  for  Boggs.  Not  a  bad  day's  work," 


CHAPTER   XV. 

MR.    RUSTLER. 

As  we  settled  to  our  post-prandial  pipes,  I 
remarked,  "  We're  in  for  a  quiet  evening,  I  sup- 
pose ? " 

"  Unless  some  of  the  men  you've  met  drop  in  — 
or  unless  you  want  to  call  on  any  of  the  ladies.  — 
Well,  if  you  don't,  I  don't." 

"  Dick,  what's  the  matter  with  Way  ?  " 

"  Old  bachelorhood,  and  ill-health.  He  couldn't 
live  without  the  river,  as  he  says — or  not  here. 
You  see  what  is  before  me." 

"  Not  if  you  take  care  of  yourself  :  your  health 
appears  to  be  all  right  thus  far.  Why  did  you 
come  here,  if  you  don't  like  it  ?  " 

"  I  had  to  go  somewhere,  and  this  was  sug- 
gested. One  place  is  as  good  as  another." 

"  And  a  good  deal  better,  as  Paddy  said.  I 
don't  see  exactly  where  your  philosophy  comes  in, 
my  boy." 

"  I'll  show  you.  '  There  is  no  armor  against 
Fate ; '  so  the  old  poet  sang,  and  so  people  be- 


Mr.  Rustler.  Ill 

lieve.  They  are  mistaken.  The  world  is  full  of 
unmanly  howls  and  earsplitting  wailings  ;  Rachel 
mourning  for  her  children,  and  boys  crying  over 
spilt  milk,  or  whining  because  they  can't  have 
the  moon  :  it  makes  very  poor  music.  All  this 
might  be  avoided  ;  only  men  are  so  busy  trying 
to  get  rich,  or  to  enjoy  themselves,  that  they 
neglect  to  ward  off  misfortune  or  prepare  to  meet 
it.  Now  since,  according  to  all  testimony,  there 
is  more  misery  than  happiness  abroad,  and  what 
is  called  happiness  is  mostly  factitious  and  delu- 
sive, not  worth  the  trouble  of  searching  for,  the 
part  of  common  sense  is  manifestly  to  accept  the 
facts  and  arrange  yourself  accordingly.  There  is 
an  armor  against  Fate  :  Indifference." 

The  last  sentence  he  delivered  in  his  most 
impressive  manner  and  with  an  accent  of  deep 
conviction.  So  this  is  his  last  valuable  discovery, 
I  thought.  But  I  said  nothing,  and  waited  to 
hear  what  more  he  had  to  urge  about  so  priceless 
an  addition  to  our  fund  of  knowledge. 

"  I  made  up  my  mind  long  ago  that  much  less 
profit  than  is  usually  supposed  comes  of  human 
efforts  and  ambitions,  and  that  the  main  stage  of 
life  is  really  the  mind  within,  not  the  world  with- 
out. The  most  disgusting  and  humiliating  of 
emotions  I  take  to  be  disappointment.  I  expe- 
rienced it  once  or  twice  in  childhood,  and  that 
was  enough  ;  I  determined  to  shut  it  out.  How? 
By  not  expecting  or  desiring  things.  Then  there 


112  Mr.  Rustler. 

was  the  fear  of  death,  which  makes  one  feel  like 
a  coward  —  ashamed  of  himself,  and  most  uncom- 
fortable. Well,  before  I  was  fifteen  I  had  over- 
come that,  by  steadily  accustoming  myself  to  the 
thought ;  in  such  a  case  familiarity  removes  all 
terror.  I  had  plenty  of  time  to  think,  you  know, 
and  enough  to  think  about,  in  view  of  our  domes- 
tic mishaps  —  my  father's  death,  and  the  rest.  I 
said  to  myself,  it  is  caring  that  makes  one  vul- 
nerable. If  you  love  life  unduly,  you  dread  to 
lose  it,  and  so  are  held  in  bondage,  as  St.  Paul 
says.  If  you  build  castles  in  Spain,  and  invest 
hope  and  heart  therein,  down  you  go  to  the  depths 
when  your  cloud-capped  towers  fall.  If  you  anti- 
cipate this  or  that  eagerly,  as  men  do  with  their 
amusements  and  love-affairs  and  financial  ventures 
and  what  not,  you  merely  put  yourself  in  a  way 
to  be  hurt.  That's  clear,  isn't  it  ?  Now  what's 
the  remedy  ?  Simply  this  :  don't  build,  don't 
anticipate,  and  above  all,  don't  care.  I  saw  no 
wisdom  in  being  torn  in  two  and  broken  to  pieces 
by  every  stroke  of  ill  fortune,  such  as  must  come 
frequently  when  one  tries  to  do  things  and  attain 
given  objects,  no  matter  what ;  nor  yet  by  the 
mere  absence  of  success  and  prosperity,  such  as 
was  my  hereditary  lot  and  likely  always  to  attend 
me.  So  I  took  for  my  watchword,  Indifference. 
What  does  Marcus  say?  'Another  prays,  How 
shall  I  get  this  thing?  Do  thou  pray,  How  shall 
I  not  desire  it.'  That's  the  point.  I  used  to  be 


Mr.  Rustler.  113 

criticised  for  this  at  college,  you  may  remember, 
and  there  was  no  use  of  explaining  my  position  to 
the  boys  —  they  wouldn't  have  understood  it,  or 
would  have  thought  it  heresy  and  schism  ;  but  I 
saved  myself  a  lot  of  unpleasantness,  no  doubt. 
Bardie  wanted  to  see  me  roused  :  I  didn't.  You 
thought  me  naturally  phlegmatic  :  it  wasn't  alto- 
gether that.  Know  thyself  is  the  maxim  to  start 
with.  In  this  world  a  man  can't  afford  to  be  pas- 
sionate and  eager  and  anxious  ;  at  least  I  couldn't. 
Even  affections  are  expensive  and  dangerous,  and 
as  the  natural  channels  of  mine  were  cut  off,  I 
took  that  as  an  indication  of  Providence  that  I 
had  better  not  form  any  artificial  ones.  It's  safer 
to  work  one's  brain,  and  live  in  that  —  not  neglect- 
ing the  conscience,  of  course.  It  was  none  of  my 
business  to  force  this  doctrine  on  others  :  we're 
all  made  differently,  and  each  must  find  out  for 
himself  what  he  needs.  But  this  was  the  medi- 
cine for  me." 

I  had  listened  to  this  harangue  with  exemplary 
patience,  feeling,  as  any  one  must,  how  wide  of 
the  mark  the  arrow  flew.  But  here  seemed  to  be 
an  opportunity  to  point  out  my  poor  friend's  error, 
without  being  too  rough  with  him.  "  Medicine  — 
what  do  you  want  of  medicine  ?  I  don't  see  why 
you  should  pose  as  a  sick  man.  And  to  people  in 
ordinary  health  physic  is  considerably  less  impor- 
tant than  food.  What  does  your  theory  say  to 
the  question  of  ways  and  means?  " 


114  Mr.  Rustler. 

So  grossly  practical  a  suggestion  he  dismissed 
with  his  habitual  easy  contempt.  "  That's  an- 
other matter :  stick  to  the  one  in  hand.  You 
don't  see  why  I  should  treat  myself  as  a  patient  ? 
Well,  for  instance,  how  could  a  civilized  man 
stand  it  in  a  place  like  this,  if  he  weren't  armed 
and  fortified  ?  I  say  to  myself,  with  Marcus, 
What  does  it  matter  whether  you  are  here  or 
there  ? 

'  Life  is  not  that  which  without  us  we  find, 
Chance,  accident  merely,  —  but  rather  the  mind, 
And  the  soul  which,  within  us,  surviveth  these  things.' 

And  that  keeps  me  up,  you  see." 

"  I  should  think  a  little  tolerably  congenial  so- 
ciety, and  some  adequate  occupation,  would  do  it 
better.  You're  out  of  place  here,  Dick  :  I  always 
thought  it  was  a  false  move." 

"  It's  of  no  use  to  talk  about  that.  I'm  here, 
and  may  as  well  make  the  best  of  it." 

"  If  you  would  ;  but  I  fear  it's  not  in  you  to  do 
it.  You're  a  tender  plant  and  a  fragile  flower, 
Richard,  and  I'm  not  sure  I  hadn't  better  take 
down  your  sign  and  carry  you  back  with  me." 

My  friend  was  offering  some  feeble  assurances 
that  he  was  all  right,  when  the  door  opened  and 
admitted  one  of  the  men  I  had  seen  and  discussed 
the  night  before :  Dick  introduced  him  as  the 
occupant  of  an  adjoining  office.  Mr.  Rustler  was 
a  heavy  and  hearty  person  of  twenty-eight  or  so, 


Mr.  Rustler.  115 

carelessly  attired,  with  a  red  face  and  a  familiar 
manner. 

"  Glad  to  know  you,  sir ;  meant  to  do  the  civil 
thing  this  mornin',  but  heard  you'd  gone  fishin'. 
Grafton  can  afford  that,  I  s'pose  ;  rest  of  us  have 
to  stay  home  and  catch  men,  as  the  'postle  says. 
Bet  you  he  didn't  take  two  dollars'  worth ;  and 
I've  made  five  to-day.  Been  lecturin'  him  ?  You 
look  like  it,  and  he  needs  it.  Yes  sir,  he's  a  nice 
boy,  Grafton  is,  but  he  wants  somebody  to  look 
after  him."  The  speaker  emphasized  his  remarks 
by  a  fraternal  thwack  administered  upon  the  shoul- 
ders of  his  topic.  "  We'd  do  it,  some  of  us,  only 
we  don't  feel  intimate  enough  ;  ain't  in  his  set 
exactly.  I  was  raised  on  a  farm  right  outside 
town  here,  I  was." 

"I  was  raised  on  a  farm  too,"  Dick  interposed  ; 
"so  we're  in  the  same  set  as  far  as  that  goes." 

"  That  was  way  off  in  Maryland,  where  folks 
are  lazy  and  easy-goin*.  And  then  you  went  to 
college  ;  that's  what's  the  matter  with  you.  When 
we  heard  he  was  comin'  here,  some  of  the  boys 
got  scared  ;  thought  a  prize  pumpkin  from  Yale 
would  take  the  shine  off  our  native  products.  But 
I  said  to  'em,  '  Go  slow  now.  There's  only  seven- 
teen of  us,  and  four  thousand  people  in  town  to 
live  off  of,  besides  the  farmers.  It's  a  free  coun- 
try. Give  the  sucker  a  chance :  meet  him 
friendly.'  And  we  did,  didn't  we  ?  Leastways, 
most  of  us.  But  bless  you,  he  didn't  take  to  our 


ii6  Mr.  Rustler. 

ways,  no  more'n  a  hen  to  a  duckpond.  You  see, 
one  has  to  hustle  round  lively  here,  to  get  on. 
I've  thought  of  takin'  him  into  partnership,  for 
I'm  getcin'  'most  more'n  I  can  do,  and  I  want 
somebody  that's  up  on  the  law  points,  as  he  ought 
to  be ;  why,  he's  read  more  books  'n  I  can  shake 
a  stick  at.  If  he  was  willin'  to  be  led,  now,  and 
to  learn  the  tricks  and  follow  suit,  while  I  did  the 
hustlin'  and  'tended  to  the  active  business,  me 
and  him'd  be  a  smart  team." 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  anxious  to  give  the  good  cause  a 
boost.  "  Grafton  would  make  a  first-rate  office  law- 
yer— under  the  guidance  of  an  energetic,  practical 
chief." 

Mr.  Rustler  looked  dubious.  "Well,  I  ain't  sure. 
O,  I  can  do  the  practical  and  get  up  the  steam,  of 
course ;  but  I'd  have  to  do  it  for  both.  You  know 
office  work  is  mostly  bamboozlin',  and  gettin'  round 
clients  and  persuadin'  'em  to  sail  in,  and  such ;  and 
he'd  be  no  good  at  that.  You're  in  the  profession? 
No  ?  Lord,  I  oughtn't  to  said  that,  then.  Well,  don't 
give  me  away  :  it's  all  between  friends  and  in  confi- 
dence. Here's  the  way  it'd  be  :  some  old  rooster 
comes  in,  and  Grafton  hears  him  through  and  tells 
him  he's  got  no  case,  or  to  go  home  and  make  it  up. 
That's  his  style.  No,  he  might  be  more  use  in 
court.  He  makes  a  good  speech,  if  it  was  to  the 
point.  He  can  soar,  only  he  don't  soar  when  you 
want  him  to ;  goes  off  at  half-cock  about  Justice 
when  he  ought  to  be  foolin'  the  jury.  Eloquence 


Mr.  Rustler.  117 

is  a  good  card,  but  you  have  to  play  it  at  the  right 
place  in  the  game,  not  promiscuous,  hit  or  miss, 
accordin'  as  you  feel  like  it.  Judges  and  juries 
ain't  caught  like  that ;  they  want  to  be  handled 
careful.  O,  I  know  he  can  write  ;  draws  up  a  dam 
sight  better  paper'n  I  do.  But  a  clerk  can  do  that, 
or  a  student." 

"  I  wasn't  aware  you  had  either  as  yet,"  Dick 
put  in  slyly. 

"  No  more  I  haven't,  but  I  will  before  you  do, 
my  Christian  friend.  You  get  most  of  my  writin' 
now,  and  it  don't  fetch  you  two  dollars  a  week, 
does  it  ?  I've  got  more  important  business.  The 
trouble  with  you  is,  you're  too  doggoned  fine.  You 
like  to  wear  a  clean  collar,  and  cuffs,  and  feel  like 
a  gentleman.  That  ain't  the  way.  If  you  want 
to  get  on  at  law,  you  must  turn  up  your  sleeves 
and  go  and  roll  in  the  gutter  a  bit." 

"  I  fear  I  must  plead  guilty  to  that  indictment," 
said  Dick  with  a  pensive  smile.  "  I  do  prefer  to 
keep  clean  ;  I've  not  been  able  as  yet  to  acquire  a 
taste  for  mud." 

"There,  he  owns  it ;  talks  about  taste,  and  prefer- 
rin'.  You  see,"  exclaimed  the  practitioner,  turning 
to  me  in  indignant  appeal.  "  He's  too  blamed 
finicky  and  high-toned  for  any  use,  out  here. 
Maybe  his  notions  might  suit  in  York,  though  it 
don't  sound  so  from  what  I  read  in  the  papers. 
Why,  sir,  he  lost  a  case  last  spring,  just  by  not 
breakin'  up  a  witness  on  the  other  side,  when  all 


Mr.  Rustier. 

depended  on  it.  She  was  a  widow  woman  too, 
with  nobody  much  to  back  her;  ignorant  and 
nervous,  and  scared  easy.  But  he  just  wouldn't 
do  it ;  has  no  idea  of  bulldozin'." 

"But  in  that  case,"  said  Dick  gently,  "you 
know  she  had  the  rights  of  it." 

"  What  if  she  had  ?  What  in  thunder  has  that 
got  to  do  with  it  ?  Once  you're  in  a  case,  all  con- 
cerns you  is  your  client's  interests,  and  your  own 
of  course.  Just  look  at  him  ;" —  the  visitor  turned 
to  me  plaintively ;  "  he's  got  no  more  notion  of 
practice  'n  that." 

"Well,"  said  Dick  apologetically,  "that  time  I 
was  a  junior,  suddenly  called  in  with  imperfect 
instructions,  and  misled  as  to  the  leading  facts. 
Had  I  known  that  our  man  was  trying  to  cheat 
the  widow  out  of  her  farm,  I  wouldn't  have 
touched  his  suit.  If  I'd  been  retained  on  the 
opposite  side,  I  might  have  done  something." 

"Now  that's  Grafton  all  over,"  Rustler  vocifer- 
ated, in  tones  of  much  feeling.  "Won't  take  a 
case  unless  it  suits  him ;  wants  to  represent  only 
Sunday  Schools  and  Orphan  Asylums.  A  man 
was  up  for  pig-stealin',  and  went  to  him.  Did 
you  take  the  pigs,  says  he.  Yes,  says  the  man, 
me  and  Bill  Jacks;  but  they  hain't  onto  Bill's 
trail,  and  he  and  his  wife'll  swear  I  was  to  their 
place  all  that  night,  which  I  was,  'cept  when  we 
went  after  them  pigs.  Get  out,  says  Grafton. 
Now  that's  no  way  to  do  business.  He  came  to 


Mr.  Riistter.  119 

me  next  —  right  next  door  'tis — and  I  says,  How 
much  you  got  ?  Seven  dollars,  says  he.  All  right, 
says  I,  and  I  took  the  cash,  proved  the  alibi,  and 
got  him  off.  That's  business,  that  is.  There's 
where  Grafton  might  have  been  seven  dollars 
richer  if  he  wasn't  so  goldarned  particular. 
Won't  touch  divorce  suits  even  ;  and  they  make 
an  item  in  these  parts,  I  tell  you.  You  can  see 
the  unhitched  couples  in  church  of  a  Sunday ; 
man  sittin'  in  one  pew,  ex-wife  in  the  next,  proud 
and  smilin'  as  you  please.  Yet  Grafton  thinks 
divorce  is  nasty.  Gosh  !  He's  a  fine  feller,  he  is ; 
'most  too  fine  for  this  world,  or  this  part  of  it  any- 
way. He  ought  to  staid  East,  done  up  in  cotton  in 
a  bandbox  with  blue  ribbons.  Well,  sir,  jj/0«'ve  got 
horse  sense,  I  see,  and  maybe  you  can  raise  some 
influence  over  him ;  nobody  else  can,  as  I  know  of. 
It's  a  pity  to  see  him  throw  himself  away  like  this. 
Talk  to  him  some  more ;  and  if  you  can  make 
him  hear  reason,  why  I'm  good  to  step  in  and 
make  a  man  of  him."  He  wrung  my  hand, 
patted  Dick  avuncularly  on  the  head,  and  with- 
drew. 

We  resumed  our  chairs,  looked  at  the  stove,  and 
then  at  each  other. 

"Well,"  said  Dick,  "you  see?" 

"  O,  come ;  they  can't  all  be  like  that.  You  don't 
mean  he's  an  average  sample  ? " 

"No  ;  he's  the  best  of  them — for  scientific  pur- 
poses :  the  others  are  more  commonplace  and 


I2O  Mr.  Rustler. 

varnished.  His  frankness  and  directness  are  his 
own ;  but  he's  justly  popular,  and  a  rising  man. 
His  trumpet  may  not  be  of  the  finest  make,  but  it 
gives  out  no  uncertain  sound;  he  is  single-minded, 
and  beautifully  clearheaded.  He  knows  just  what 
he  wants,  goes  straight  at  it,  and  gets  it.  To 
acquit  a  petty  thief  and  earn  seven  dollars  is  to 
him  an  object  to  be  seriously  pursued,  a  step  on 
the  ladder  of  life.  He  wisely  declines  to  despise 
the  day  of  small  things.  He  is  a  model  for  men 
of  his  sort.  But  I  fear  I'm  not  his  sort  of 
man." 

"Dick,  you're  growing  cynical,  I'm  afraid." 

"  No,  not  yet ;  I  speak  in  good  faith.  If  I 
could  see  and  handle  things  as  he  does,  how  the 
problem  of  life  would  be  simplified  !  Besides,  he 
is  good-natured,  and  rather  kindly.  He  wouldn't 
oppress  the  widow  and  orphan  for  love  of  it,  nor 
do  any  one  a  mean  turn  except  in  the  way  of  busi- 
ness. But  much  as  I  admire  him  as  a  specimen, 
I  hardly  think  I  could  work  with  him  as  a  partner. 
Perhaps  I  am  old-fashioned  and  prejudiced,  as  he 
says ;  but  so  it  is.  I  can  see  that  his  view  is  the 
conquering  one  —  I  never  denied  that;  but  I  can't 
take  it,  that's  all." 

"  Dick,  would  it  have  been  any  worse  to  accept 
the  charge  of  Van  Snoozer's  brother,  or  such  a 
post  as  Mr.  De  Grout  would  have  offered  you, 
than  to  take  work  from  such  a  fellow  as  Rustler  ? " 

"  Yes,  for  they  wanted  to  help  me,  whereas  he 


Mr.  Rustler.  12 1 

means  only  to  use  me.  I  can't  take  benefits  in 
cold  blood ;  but  out  here  we  show  no  such  deli- 
cate consideration,  and  whatever  conies  to  you  is 
in  the  way  of  business.  Matters  are  simpler 
and  more  manageable:  you  don't  have  to  be  on 
guard." 

"  I  never  could  see  much  need  of  being  on  guard 
against  my  friends  —  unless  when  they  wanted  me 
to  toe  the  mark  too  closely.  —  You  must  have  a 
good  deal  of  time  on  your  hands  :  what  do  you  do 
with  it?" 

"  Read.  I  have  some  books,  you  know,  and  I 
can  borrow  a  few,  though  the  range  here  is  some- 
what limited." 

"  Try  any  teaching  ?  You  always  were  good  at 
that." 

"  I  might,  but  none  has  offered.  The  law  was 
an  experiment  with  me,  as  it  is  with  so  many.  It 
can't  hurt  one  to  know  a  little  of  it,  and  when  it  is 
proved  that  law  and  I  can't  pull  together,  I  can  try 
something  else.  But  it's  not  time  for  that  yet,  and 
I'm  making  ends  meet  as  it  is." 

This  might  be,  but  I  was  satisfied  with  neither 
the  aspects  nor  the  prospects  of  his  case.  So  I 
did  some  thinking  that  night,  and  evolved  a  plan  ; 
not  much  of  a  plan,  just  an  humble  pottering 
affair,  but  if  I  could  get  it  to  work  it  might 
improve  the  present  situation  a  little.  And  the 
next  day  I  talked  up  education,  and  told  him  he 
ought  to  aim  at  a  professorship,  or  something  of 


122  Mr.  Rustler. 

that  kind,  in  the  future.  I  felt  sure  he  never 
would  do  any  good  at  law,  and  wished  to  induce 
him  to  accustom  his  mind  to  the  idea  of  looking 
a  step  or  two  beyond  day  after  to-morrow. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

A    PHANTOM    BALL. 

ON  the  last  night  of  my  brief  stay  there  was  a 
phantom  ball  at  the  hotel.  The  giddy  youth  of 
the  town  encased  themselves  in  sacks  or  sheets, 
in  which  they  resembled  Kuklux,  or  grand  inquisi- 
tors, or  members  of  the  Venetian  Council.  This 
mediaeval  costume  was  not  obligatory,  and  Dick 
and  I,  like  the  sober  elders,  attended  in  plain  garb 
with  lineaments  unconcealed.  The  dining-room 
was  cleared  for  dancing,  and  we  stood  in  the 
doorway  gazing  at  the  performance  of  the  gayer 
spirits,  wherein  the  weird  and  the  boisterous  were 
agreeably  joined,  when  an  episode  not  on  the  bills 
was  suddenly  introduced.  A  long-legged  gymnast, 
prancing  about  to  show  his  agility,  came  into  violent 
contact  with  the  chandelier,  i.e.,  a  large  kerosene 
lamp  suspended  from  the  ceiling :  down  it  fell 
with  a  crash,  and  the  floor  was  ablaze  in  an  instant. 
The  votaries  of  Terpsichore  jumped  out  of  the 
way,  and  luckily  none  of  their  flowing  draperies 
caught,  but  the  flames  presently  filled  a  space  as 


124  A  Phantom  Ball. 

large  as  a  good-sized  table,  and  mounted  four  or 
five  feet  in  the  air.  Then  ensued  such  a  scene  as 
untrained  humanity  is  prompt  to  furnish  on  the 
slightest  provocation.  Women  fled  shrieking  from 
the  room  and  the  house :  men  rushed  furiously 
hither  and  thither,  and  fell  over  each  other  in 
blind  zeal  to  do  they  knew  not  what.  A  servant 
(as  we  learned  afterwards)  dragged  her  empty 
trunk  laboriously  down  four  pair  of  stairs,  leav- 
ing her  garments  hanging  on  pegs  about  her 
attic  chamber.  But  the  best  of  the  show — though 
I  did  not  realize  it  till  later — was  right  under  our 
noses.  The  fire  by  itself  was  a  pretty  sight,  and 
unusual  in  the  middle  of  a  room  ;  the  sheeted 
figures  which  sprang  and  howled  around  it  supplied 
a  combination  not  precisely  paralleled,  so  far  as  I 
remember,  in  any  opera.  Half  a  dozen  of  the 
dancers,  who  scorned  to  fly  the  scene  of  danger, 
had  been  reinforced  by  two  or  three  of  the  bravest 
from  without :  these  hovered  on  the  edge  of  the 
conflagration,  shouting  aimless  orders  and  encour- 
agements to  each  other  and  to  the  ambient  air,  or 
dashing  about  in  wild  excitement  after  ropes,  step- 
ladders,  wash-tubs — whatever  could  be  of  no  pos- 
sible use.  One  snatched  a  handkerchief  (it  was 
her  very  best)  from  a  lady  who  imprudently  lingered 
at  a  distance  to  see  what  might  come  next,  and 
flung  it  into  the  devouring  element.  Another 
tore  off  his  coat  and  therewith  beat  the  flames  till 
but  a  scorched  rag  remained  to  tell  of  his  self- 


A  Phantom  Ball.  125 

abnegating  public  spirit.  A  third  raced  in  with  a 
pail  of  water  from  the  kitchen  and  inundated  his 
colleagues  :  fortunately  not  much  of  the  unharmo- 
nizing  fluid  reached  the  blazing  oil.  With  their 
frantic  movements,  these  preservers  were  in  much 
more  peril  than  the  building  ;  but  the  Providence 
which  watches  over  drunkards  and  madmen  pro- 
tected them.  Animated  by  their  exertions,  I  was 
stepping  forth  to  offer  aid,  when  Dick  seized  my 
arm. 

"Keep  still,  Bob,  do.  Let  the  natives  conduct 
this  entertainment ;  you're  only  a  guest.  I  don't 
want  to  be  the  only  sane  person  left  in  the  prem- 
ises. Don't  burn  up  your  coat :  you  can't  get  an- 
other to  suit  you  nearer  than  Chicago.  There's 
nothing  to  do  :  don't  you  see  that  the  fire  can't 
possibly  reach  the  walls  ?  Five  dollars  will  pay 
for  all  the  damage,  except  what  those  donkeys  are 
making.  It  will  be  out  within  two  minutes  now." 

And  so  it  was :  the  exhibition  was  over  in  less 
time  than  I  spend  on  the  recital,  and  all  that 
remained  of  it  was  a  few  charred  planks  in  the 
floor  and  some  singed  sheets  and  bootsoles.  The 
aqueous  element  had  proved  more  injurious  than 
its  rival,  and  the  sufferers  retired  to  change  their 
soaked  clothing  and  lynch  the  too  zealous  water 
brigade  of  one.  The  company  was  collected  again 
from  yard  and  street,  from  hallways  and  neighboring 
houses,  and  joy  was  even  more  unconfined  than 
before  its  interruption,  for  the  most  belated  bor- 


126  A  Phantom  Ball. 

rower  of  the  county  paper  was  now  blest  with 
perfectly  fresh  news  to  discuss. 

"O  Mr.  Tipton,"  cried  Mrs.  Claybank,  "was  it 
really  incendiary  ?  And  did  you  catch  the  guilty 
man  who  started  it,  and  put  it  out  yourself,  as  I 
hear  ?  Here  are  two  reporters  to  interview  you  : 
but  tell  me  first.  They  say  you  were  quite  the 
hero  of  the  occasion,  and  displayed  most  matchless 
presence  of  mind." 

"That  was  Grafton,"  I  replied.  "I  suppose  he 
and  I  were  the  heroes  of  the  occasion,  for  we  stood 
by  the  door  and  looked  at  the  fire  till  it  went  out, 
while  others  were  piling  on  fresh  fuel.  I  should 
have  joined  those  misguided  men,  had  not  Grafton 
deterred  me.  I  will  not  deceive  you  :  he  deserves 
all  the  honor.  When  there  is  nothing  to  be  done, 
he  of  all  men  is  the  one  to  seize  and  point  out  the 
fact :  his  mind  is  singularly  perspicacious  in  that 
direction." 

"Yes,  I  should  never  suspect  Mr.  Grafton  of 
doing  what  he  ought  not ;  but  don't  you  think,  as 
the  Episcopals  are  so  fond  of  saying  in  their 
church,  Jie  sometimes  leaves  undone  things  it 
might  be  well  to  do  ?" 

"  That  is  possible,  madam  ;  but  in  a  world  where 
so  much  is  done  that  ought  to  be  omitted,  is  it  not 
better  to  err  by  deficiency  than  by  excess  ?  Think 
of  to-night :  the  mistaken  zeal  of  some  of  us 
might  have  led  to  the  most  terrible  results.  I 
might  be  lying  a  blackened  corpse  before  you, 


A  Phantom  Ball.  127 

but  for  the  calm  wisdom,  the  heroic  self-command, 
of  my  young  friend.  In  the  hour  of  peril,  the 
man  who  keeps  his  wits  about  him  is  the  one  we 
recognize  as  best  and  bravest,  and  that's  Grafton 
to  a  T.  I  wouldn't  tell  any  one  else,  but  do  you 
know  what  it  was  he  said,  that  restrained  me  from 
rushing  madly  toward  the  flames  ?  He  said  he 
didn't  want  to  be  the  only  sane  man  on  hand, 
it  would  be  so  lonesome.  Yet  that  is  just  what 
he  was." 

"I'm  sure  you  talk  beautifully,  Mr.  Tims,  and 
it's  an  accomplishment  so  few  of  our  young  men 
possess :  so  sorry  we  couldn't  induce  you  to  ad- 
dress the  literary  circle.  Yes,  I  always  thought 
there  was  something  in  Mr.  Grafton,  and  I'm  sin- 
cerely glad  to  see  it  come  out.  If  he  was  the  hero 
— though  I  suspect  your  share  was  larger  than 
you  will  admit  —  we  ought  to  do  something  to 
recognize  the  fact.  What  should  it  be — a  testi- 
monial of  some  kind  ? " 

"His  modesty  would  shrink  from  that;  he's 
modest  to  a  fault,  you  know.  You  can  appreci- 
ate him,  you  have  such  insight  into  character ; 
but  I  don't  believe  most  people  here  do.  The 
thing  would  be  to  put  him  into  some  way  of  being 
quietly  useful." 

"  Why,  I  asked  him  to  teach  in  Sabbath  School, 
and  —  " 

"  My  dear  madam,  that  was  his  modesty  again. 
He  doesn't  like  to  set  up  for  a  religious  teacher, 


128  A  Phantom  Ball. 

and  let  his  light  shine.  He's  so  young,  he  thinks 
it  wouldn't  be  proper :  he  has  the  nicest  ideas  of 
propriety  —  exaggerated  sometimes,  I  admit.  It 
would  have  to  be  something  private,  and  secular, 
or  scholastic,  if  I  may  use  that  expression.  I 
hardly  like  to  hint  at  such  a  thing ;  he  would  be 
so  offended  if  he  knew." 

"Any  secret  is  perfectly  safe  with  me,"  said  the 
lady  eagerly.  "  You  may  speak  to  me  as  to  your 
mother ;  and  anything  that  is  for  Mr.  Grafton's 
good  I  think  I  ought  to  know." 

"  So  you  ought :  he  would  tell  you  if  he  could 
bring  himself  to  talk  of  it  to  any  one.  You  would 
hardly  suspect  it,  he  is  so  close  about  his  own 
affairs;  but  he's  a  great  scholar.  Why,  he  took 
the  Berkeley  scholarship  —  founded  by  Bishop 
Berkeley,  you  know,  who  was  so  liberal,  and  wrote 
that  about  the  star  of  empire  moving  in  your  direc- 
tion." 

"  He  did  ?  And  did  Bishop  Berkeley  crown 
him,  or  reward  him,  or  whatever  it  was,  with  his 
own  hand  ?  " 

"  By  deputy,  madam ;  the  bishop  was  prevented 
from  being  there  in  person.  But  Grafton  has  re- 
markable gifts  as  a  teacher.  The  president  and 
professors  have  asked  him  to  take  particular 
cases  in  hand,  when  they  themselves  had  failed  to 
bring  a  boy  through  his  classes,  and  he  succeeded. 
Fact,  I  assure  you." 

"  You  don't  say  so  !  Why,  they  ought  to  have 
'made  him  a  professor  then." 


A  Phantom  Ball.  129 

"  Too  young,  and  as  I  said,  too  modest  for  his 
own  good.  He  might  have  had  a  nice  position 
if  he  had  staid  there ;  but  your  free  and  bracing 
air  attracted  him,  and,  as  you  remarked,  he  wisely 
came  out  here.  Still,  his  educational  candle  ought 
not  to  be  hid  under  a  bushel,  and  —  but  these  are 
his  private  matters,  which  I  hardly  ought  to  men- 
tion." 

"  O,  tell  me  ;  I  must  know  all  about  the  dear 
young  man.  Purely  for  my  own  satisfaction,  and 
that  I  may  understand  how  best  to  serve  him : 
you  must  see  the  necessity  of  that.  I  never  talk, 
you  know. 

"  Of  course  ;  and  he  thinks  so  much  of  you. 
Well,  you  know  he's  far  from  rich,  and  his  legal 
income  can't  be  much  yet,  there  is  so  much  com- 
petition. Now  I  ought  not  to  have  said  that ;  it 
sounds  like  asking  favors  for  him,  and  there's 
nothing  he  so  abhors.  He  would  never  forgive 
me  if  he  were  to  hear  of  this  conversation  of 
ours." 

"  I'll  not  tell  him,  and  you  needn't.  Yes,  there 
is  no  doubt  of  it,  he  needs  some  one  to  look  after 
him  ;  he  does  not  push  his  interests  as  he  might. 
Why,  my  husband  has  heard  of  his  actually  re- 
fusing cases  that  were  offered  to  him." 

"  None  in  which  Mr.  Claybank  was  concerned, 
I'm  sure  —  not  if  Dick  knew  the  fact  :  he  would 
do  anything  for  you.  He  did  refuse  to  defend  a 
thief ;  he  will  be  no  party  to  injustice.  His  con- 


130  A  Phantom  Ball. 

science  is  not  for  hire,  like  some  lawyers'  :  he  is 
so  high-minded.  He  may  have  been  mistaken 
once  or  twice,  and  neglected  his  own  interests  as 
you  think,  but  only  from  the  purest  motives." 

"That  I  can  well  believe.  He  wouldn't  care 
for  a  position  in  the  public  schools?  Mr.  Clay- 
bank  is  a  trustee." 

"That  would  interfere  with  his  practice,  what 
there  is  of  it.  I  don't  want  him  to  cut  the  law  — 
not  yet.  But  if  there  were  any  boys  in  town 
preparing  for  college,  or  the  like,  and  they  could 
induce  Grafton  to  give  them  lessons  afternoons  or 
evenings,  it  would  be  a  great  advantage  to  them  ; 
he's  perfect  in  classics,  and  mathematics,  and 
things  generally." 

"  I  see  :  I  will  think  it  over.  Yes,  there  are 
my  nephews,  and  the  Browns ;  and  my  own  son 
will  soon  be  old  enough.  He  wouldn't  want  east- 
ern prices,  would  he  ?  " 

"O,  I  think  not.  You  could  arrange  all  that. 
Only  he  mustn't  know  that  I  had  anything  to  do 
with  it :  let  the  idea  and  the  proposition  come 
from  you.  And  conceal  if  possible  the  fact  that 
you  are  doing  him  a  kindness  :  he  might  take  one 
from  you  when  he  wouldn't  from  me  or  anybody 
else,  but  even  so  it  would  hurt  his  feelings.  You 
understand  that,  though  some  others  might  not." 

"  Certainly  I  do.  Yes,  I  will  arrange  it,  and 
it  may  prove  advantageous  on  both  sides.  I'm 
obliged  to  you  for  suggesting  it,  Mr.  Tippen.  So 


A  Phantom  Ball.  131 

you  go  tomorrow  ?  You  must  come  and  see  us 
again.  You  will,  I  know  :  they  always  do.  No 
one  who  has  once  breathed  the  air  of  the  free  and 
boundless  West  can  be  content  to  stay  away  from 
it.  Perhaps  you  will  arrange  to  settle  here  like 
your  friend  ;  then  you  can  help  me  to  take  care  of 
him.  Tackville  has  a  great  future,  and  we  should 
be  so  glad  to  have  you  amongst  us." 

That  night  I  intimated  casually  to  Dick  that 
there  might  be  a  chance  of  pupils  ;  Mrs.  Claybank 
had  been  speaking  to  me  about  it.  "  I  told  her 
I  thought  you  might  find  time  for  it,  and  that  you 
were  a  dabster  at  such  work  ;  so  don't  go  back  on 
me  if  they  come  after  you.  I  don't  suppose  they 
pay  much,  but  it  will  be  at  least  as  good  as  copy- 
ing law  papers."  I  said  nothing  about  any  trouble 
having  been  taken,  or  harmless  little  stratagems 
(and  possibly  fictions)  employed,  toward  the  attain- 
ment of  this  humble  end,  for  I  knew  he  would 
have  to  be  older  and  wiser  before  he  could  under- 
stand that  these  things  must  be  done  in  such 
cases,  and  that  when  the  person  most  concerned 
will  not  do  them  himself,  he  simply  transfers  the 
requisite  intellectual  and  moral  expenditure  to  his 
friends,  if  he  has  any  who  care  for  him  enough 
not  to  be  willing  to  see  him  left  out  in  the  cold. 
To  my  guarded  communication  Dick  replied, 
rather  indifferently,  that  he  was  on  hand  if 
wanted,  and  I  turned  homeward  with  a  somewhat 
easier  mind. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

FIFTEEN    MONTHS    LATER. 

THE  pupils  came,  and  added  a  few  weekly  dol- 
lars to  Grafton's  depleted  exchequer  :  he  did  not 
dwell  on  them,  nor  need  I.  His  infrequent  letters 
had  little  to  say  of  externals,  and  less  than  before 
of  his  beloved  theories  :  either  he  was  growing 
more  sensitive  to  a  lack  of  sympathy  with  his 
flights,  or  the  airy  regions  of  abstraction  were 
losing  their  charm.  A  busy  man  makes  a  poor 
correspondent,  but  that  could  hardly  be  his  case. 
Days  that  glide  by  in  placid  and  uneventful  con- 
tent furnish  little  nutriment  to  epistolary  zeal ;  but 
the  desire  to  remind  others  of  one's  existence 
dies,  when  one  has  nothing  cheerful  to  tell  and  is 
too  proud  to  complain.  A  vigorous  spirit,  thrown 
back  upon  itself,  may  find  a  safety-valve  in  pen 
and  paper ;  but  when  discouragement  damps  its 
powers,  and  it  begins  to  find  its  efforts  vain  and 
to  siispect  that  life  is  no  great  boon,  it  says  of  its 
nearest,  first,  "  I  will  not  inflict  my  dullness  on 
him,"  and  then,  "  Cui  bonof  he  will  not  care  to 


Fifteen  Months  later.  133 

hear."  —  Should  these  and  sundry  reflections  scat- 
tered through  my  pages  appear  out  of  character 
with  a  healthful  mind,  remember  that  I  am  trying 
to  play  biographer,  and  bound  to  take  the  tone 
and  view-point  of  my  subject  when  I  can  :  if  the 
chronicle  be  sombre,  that  is  Grafton's  fault,  not 
mine. 

More  than  a  year  passed  before  I  could  revisit 
Tackville,  and  then  the  blizzards  were  blowing 
and  life  was  all  indoors,  for  with  them  zero  is  more 
frequent  than  twenty  above  with  us.  The  river 
was  frozen  over,  and  Major  Way  wisely  gone  to 
Florida.  I  renewed  friendship  with  Mrs.  Clay- 
bank,  and  again  drank  in  the  instructive  accents 
of  Mr.  Rustler ;  but  my  business  was  with  Dick. 
At  first  he  was  reticent,  almost  secretive,  as  one 
loath  to  confess  to  error  or  defeat :  real  life  was 
beginning  to  claim  his  attention,  and  he  liked 
neither  the  matter  of  the  discourse  nor  the  man- 
ner in  which  it  was  forced  upon  him.  The  few 
external  topics  of  common  interest  were  soon 
exhausted,  and  we  sat  in  silence  before  the  red-hot 
stove.  The  room  bore  signs  neither  of  wealth  nor 
want.  There  were  no  tapestries,  no  Persian  car- 
pets, no  buhl  and  ormolu  and  bijouterie  :  if  there 
had  been,  you  would  probably  have  heard  of  them 
before.  As  for  the  plain  pine  table  and  book- 
shelves, the  two  armchairs  and  the  cuspidore 
(though  I  am  straining  a  point  to  entitle  it  thus), 
I  decline  to  expend  labor  in  describing  what  you 


134  Fifteen  Months  later, 

may  see  in  any  poor  young  lawyer's  office  of  your 
acquaintance  the  next  time  you  exchange  the 
splendors  of  the  metropolis  for  your  native  coun- 
try town.  I  know  it  is  the  custom  to  give  further 
particulars,  and  if  you  insist  on  them  I  may  say 
that  Richard  slept  in  his  office,  on  an  old  lounge 
which  he  had  purchased  for  $3.75  at  a  sale. 
When  I  objected  to  this  arrangement  as  unsocial 
and  unsanitary,  he  said  he  had  wearied  of  hotel 
bedrooms,  and  found  them  too  bitterly  cold  in  win- 
ter. "  I  can't  afford  to  be  luxurious  like  you,  and 
order  a  fire  every  night,  when  I  have  one  going 
here.  Anthracite's  expensive  at  this  distance,  and 
our  soft  coal  is  fit  only  for  factories.  Besides,  I 
save  a  dollar  a  week  this  way."  He  was  still  tak- 
ing his  meals  at  the  Occidental  House,  at  a  heb- 
domadary  cost  of  $4.  Another  dollar  might  be 
retrenched  by  the  transfer  to  a  boardinghouse, 
but  he  dreaded  the  enforced  proximity  of  various 
salesladies,  schoolma'ams,  real  estate  agents,  and 
rising  tobacconists.  "  It's  well  enough,"  he  ob- 
served, "  to  say  good  morning  to  them  in  the 
street,  or  how  d'ye  do  at  a  party  ;  but  I  don't  want 
to  meet  them  regularly  three  times  a  day,  and  have 
to  sit  at  table  till  all  of  them  are  done.  Rustler 
likes  it  :  he  can  get  up  and  go  off  when  he's 
ready,  and  criticise  the  food,  and  chaff  the  land- 
lady ;  but  I  can  preserve  my  identity  and  my 
independence  best  between  this  and  the  hotel. 
Lonesome  ?  No  :  I  can  go  out  if  I  want  to." 


Fifteen  Months  later.  135 

He  was  occasionally  invited  to  tea,  I  learned,  at 
Mrs.  Claybank's  and  some  other  houses,  but  no 
deduction  for  this  item  was  made  from  his  board- 
account  —  a  fact  which  indicates  his  unworldly 
nature,  never  sharp  at  a  bargain.  His  laundry 
bill,  averaging  fully  seventy-five  cents  a  week, 
showed  his  lingering  aristocratic  tastes  ;  that  of 
Mr.  Rustler,  I  imagine,  was  two-thirds  less.  His 
annual  outlay  for  raiment  I  neglected  to  inquire  ; 
but  he  still  patronized  an  eastern  tailor,  though 
less  frequently  than  of  old.  "  You  can  wear  your 
clothes  out,  here,"  he  informed  me  ;  "  that's  one 
advantage.  As  for  travel,  we  rarely  go  anywhere, 
for  the  places  worth  going  to  are  all  too  far  off. 
Incidentals  are  almost  nil :  so  you  see  I  ought  to 
be  able  to  make  expenses  with  but  a  moderate 
amount  of  what  our  friend  next  door  calls  'hust- 
lin'  ;  he  likes  that  better  than  I  do." 

These  items  I  gathered  and  noted  down  with 
care,  having  in  view  the  requirements  of  a  real- 
istic age ;  and  I  trust  you  will  be  satisfied.  It  has 
been  previously  stated  that  the  young  man's  form 
was  tall  and  well  knit,  his  eyes  and  hair  dark  :  let 
me  now  add  that  his  nose  was  straight,  his  hands 
arid  feet  of  moderate  size,  his  beard  short  and  a 
most  beautiful  curly  brown.  For  reasons  that  will 
hereafter  appear,  I  am  unable  to  set  his  photo- 
graph against  the  title-page. 

I  will  own  that  I  was  more  interested  in  his 
inner  man,  as  it  was  revealed  in  our  conver- 


136  Fifteen  Months  later. 

sations,  or  rather  in  his  monologues.  Had  Dick 
worn  blue  spectacles,  a  throat-fringe,  and  a  wool- 
len comforter,  I  should  still  have  liked,  once 
or  twice  a  year,  to  hear  him  disclose  his  mental 
processes  and  their  singular  results.  The  argu- 
ments by  which  his  tenets  were  supported  might 
be  far  from  satisfactory,  but  they  were  minor 
matters,  thrown  in  as  it  were  in  memory  of  our 
college  days ;  and  I  recalled  the  advice  of  the 
sage  to  the  young  Englishman  going  out  to 
assume  judicial  functions  in  some  colony:  "Never 
give  the  grounds  of  your  decisions.  The  conclu- 
sions will  probably  be  right,  the  reasons  for  them 
will  almost  certainly  be  wrong."  With  Graf  ton, 
indeed,  the  ends  he  attained  were  no  less  open  to 
criticism  than  the  steps  by  which  he  sometimes 
professed  to  reach  them.  Most  men,  if  they  had 
heard  his  views  announced,  would  have  thought 
him  in  jest  or  doubted  his  sanity ;  even  the  few 
accustomed  to  weigh  opinions  might  have  won- 
dered at  so  much  brain-cudgelling  with  no  possible 
outcome  beyond  his  own  mental  satisfaction,  and 
that  very  limited  and  dubious  in  the  long  run. 
His  postulates,  or  the  way  they  were  held  and 
stated,  bore  an  air  of  peculiar  guilelessness,  as  if 
the  forming  and  discussing  of  them  were  a  man's 
main  and  proper  business.  He  had  an  unequalled 
gift  for  contemplating  Life  and  receiving  no  more 
personal  impression  from  it  than  if  he  were  out- 
side its  circle :  he  treated  the  world  as  a  beetle 


Fifteen  Months  later.  137 

which  he  might  pin  to  a  card  and  examine  at  his 
leisure,  without  expecting  it  to  make  any  active 
demonstration  in  return.  At  least  he  had  main- 
tained this  attitude  up  to  date ;  but  now  there 
were  signs  of  weakening,  of  feeling  or  suspecting 
an  assault  on  his  castle  of  inquisitive  indolence. 
Had  he  lived  in  the  days  of  the  Sophists,  his 
talent  might  have  brought  fame  and  income,  ex- 
cept that  he  was  too  honest ;  now,  unhappily, 
chairs  for  this  kind  of  cosmology  are  neither  en- 
dowed nor  popular. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

A    FOURTH    OF   JULY    ORATION. 

WE  sat  for  a  time  in  silence,  which  I  finally 
broke.  "  What's  the  matter,  old  man  ?  You  look 
as  if  a  summons  had  been  served  on  you." 

"  Perhaps  it  has.  I  may  as  well  tell  you,  Bob. 
The  notions  we  learned  in  college  don't  seem  to 
apply  in  outside  life." 

"  So  you're  beginning  to  find  that  out,  eh  ? " 

"  I  don't  mean  the  ordinary  curriculum.  The 
mathematics  are  useful  to  engineers,  and  classics 
to  such  as  wish  to  teach  them,  and  logic  to  those 
who  think  so,  perhaps.  I  refer  to  the  great  under- 
lying principles.  The  Socratic  idea,  you  remember, 
was  presented  as  the  starting  point  of  intellectual 
life,  the  basis  of  all  study,  the  inclusive  rule  for 
thought  and  action." 

"  I  remember  that  you  said  so.  You  were  wild 
about  it  in  my  last  year." 

"  I  thought  it  was  self-evident  :  I  think  so  still. 
This  is  supposed  to  be  a  scientific  age,  and  Truth 
for  Truth's  sake  is  the  avowed  maxim  of  all  science. 


A  Fourth  of  July  Oration.  139 

Investigate,  and  note  the  results ;  collect  facts, 
and  try  to  infer  their  laws ;  see  things  as  they  are, 
and  speak  and  act  accordingly.  What  other  stand- 
ard can  there  be  ?  What  other  creed  can  a  man 
accept,  unless  he  owns  himself  a  muckworm, 
caring  only  to  cover  his  back  and  fill  his  belly, 
to  live  as  the  beasts  live  and  die  as  the  fool  dieth  ? 
To  worship  and  follow  Truth,  and  welcome  her  in 
all  her  shapes  and  voices,  is  what  all  decent  men 
profess." 

"  Profess,  I  dare  say ;  it's  cheaper  than  practising. 
We're  all  to  some  extent  muckworms,  Dick — all 
but  you,  and  you'll  have  to  fall  into  line  before 
long.  Don't  be  so  hot  about  it ;  it  can  be  done  in 
creditable  moderation.  You  see,  we  aim  to  make 
the  best  of  both  worlds,  to  serve  the  spirit  without 
starving  the  body — or  vice  versa,  perhaps,  with 
most.  And  so  we  make  a  judicious  compromise." 

"  You  can't,"  he  said  with  an  air  almost  of  irrita- 
tion. ".There's  no  compromise  here  ;  it's  one  thing 
or  the  other.  A  man  chooses  either  Truth  or  lies, 
and  serves  God  or  mammon." 

"  You  put  it  too  broadly.  Motives  are  mixed,  and 
oral  or  written  deliverances,  and  things  generally. 
Your  feet  are  on  mother  earth,  though  your  head 
may  be  in  the  clouds  —  as  it  is  too  apt  to  be.  You 
see,  we're  obliged  to  consider  temporal  needs  and 
occasions  as  well  as  the  eternal  verities.  You 
ought  to  attend  to  one  without  neglecting  the 
other ;  that's  scripture,  isn't  it  ?  Study  so  to 


140  A  Fourth  of  July  Oration. 

express  your  truth  that  it  will  be  taken  without 
offence ;  there's  a  deal  in  the  art  of  putting  things. 
But  go  on  and  spin  your  yarn  ;  I  can  preach  my 
little  sermon  afterwards." 

"  It's  this  way.  The  theory,  beautiful  and  noble 
as  it  is,  doesn't  seem  to  work  when  you  take  it  out 
of  doors.  Try  to  act  on  the  Socratic  idea,  and  you 
get  into  hot  water  at  once.  Put  your  principles 
into  words,  and  you're  marked  as  a  fool ;  trace 
them  to  their  most  obvious  application,  though 
it  be  plain  as  a  proposition  in  Euclid,  and  you're 
liable  to  be  a  blasphemer  —  because  you're  butting 
against  somebody's  effete  prejudice.  You  don't 
want  to  hurt  any  one,  or  get  into  rows  :  you  think 
your  testimony  is  as  impersonal  as  that  two  and 
three  make  five,  or  that  Virtue  is  laudable ;  but 
old  superstition  comes  in  the  way,  and  its  owners 
—  perhaps  a  host  of  them — rise  and  howl,  and 
roar  you  down.  You're  called  on  to  state  your 
opinions :  they  may  be  those  held  by  all  rational 
men,  a  matter  of  rudiments  and  axioms,  or  they 
may  be  in  a  debatable  ground,  a  region  of  contro- 
versy. Well,  you've  formed  them  honestly,  accord- 
ing to  the  best  lights  within  reach ;  you  can't  lie, 
you  say  what  you  think  like  a  gentleman :  and  then 
it's  as  if  you  had  insulted  Elisha,  and  he  set  his 
bears  on  you.  Who  was  it  said  error  of  every 
kind  might  meet  with  favor,  but  the  world  never 
did  and  never  would  tolerate  real  Christianity  ? 
Enlarge  that,  put  general  truth  in  place  of  a  par- 


A  Fourth  of  July  Oration.  141 

ticular  religion,  and  I  believe  it's  so.  People  like 
neither  hard  pan  nor  frank  statements :  if  you 
think  a  thing  out  and  tell  them  how  it  is,  they 
count  you  a  heathen  man  and  a  publican." 

I  soon  learned  what  specific  experiences  had 
given  rise  to  this  large  lamentation  ;  there  were 
two  of  them.  Home  talent  being  cheaper  than 
imported,  Grafton  had  been  chosen  as  orator  on 
the  preceding  Fourth  of  July.  He  had  had  the 
forethought  to  inquire  whether  the  free  expres- 
sion of  individual  views  on  public  topics  would  be 
acceptable,  and  the  inviting  committee-man,  who 
was  not  an  active  politician  and  regarded  the  ad- 
dress as  a  bare  matter  of  form,  told  him  to  say 
twenty  dollars'  worth  of  what  he  pleased.  There- 
upon he  had  ingenuously  assumed  the  scholar's 
and  reformer's  standpoint,  and  prepared  a  trac- 
tate on  Our  Dangers  and  Our  Safety.  He  de- 
nounced corruption,  narrow  partisanship,  the 
greed  for  office,  and  the  arrogant  tyranny  of 
bosses  and  machines  ;  pleaded  for  a  broad  national 
spirit  that  should  look  not  back  but  forward ;  re- 
called other  landings  besides  the  one  at  Plymouth 
Rock ;  announced  that  the  war  was  over  and  its 
results  secure ;  quoted  from  Washington's  Fare- 
well Address  the  passages  which  deprecate  sec- 
tional feeling;  commended  the  sovereignty  which 
is  carried  under  the  hat,  and  the  inclusive  patriot- 
ism which  has  "love  and  tears  for  the  blue,  tears 
and  love  for  the  gray.  "  That  doctrine  is  suffi- 


142  A  Fourth  of  July  Oration. 

ciently  familiar  now,  but  ten  years  ago  it  was 
liable  to  be  considered  not  only  novel  but  traitor- 
ous. 

Nobody  listened  to  the  effort  except  the  digni- 
taries on  the  platform  and  a  few  bumpkins  who 
did  not  mind  standing  an  hour  in  the  sun ;  but 
among  the  former  was  a  legal  luminary  who  after 
much  intriguing  had  secured  a  place  on  a  certain 
State  Committee,  and  cherished  legislative  yearn- 
ings as  yet  ungratified  by  a  nomination.  After 
the  proceedings  and  as  soon  as  the  orator  was  out 
of  hearing,  he  rose  in  wrath,  denounced  the  speech 
as  an  outrage,  and  said  it  should  have  been  stopped 
in  mid  career.  The  local  papers,  at  whose  offices 
Dick  had  cultivated  no  great  intimacy,  published 
brief  and  garbled  reports  of  his  discourse,  and 
long  editorial  antidotes  to  its  poison  :  he  was  called 
an  unrepentant  rebel  and  an  impudently  flagitious 
detractor  from  the  unsullied  majesty  of  the  Party 
in  power. 

"  Well,  old  man,"  I  remarked  when  this  tale  of 
woe  was  concluded,  "it's  a  new  thing  for  you  to 
attach  so  much  importance  to  what  folks  say  about 
you  ;  I  suppose  they  didn't  warn  you  to  leave  the 
town,  or  threaten  tar  and  feathers  ?  Short  of  physi- 
cal violence,  I  wouldn't  mind  if  I  were  you.  And 
it's  six  months  ago  now." 

"  O,  I  didn't  care  for  the  personal  aspect  of  the 
case.  It  did  me  no  great  harm ;  but  I  don't  like 
to  see  Truth  spit  upon  and  crucified." 


A  Fourth  of  July  Oration.  143 

"  Now,  Dick,  you  analyzed  the  boasted  liberalism 
of  this  region  for  my  benefit  when  I  was  here  be- 
fore; you  told  me  what  their  free  thought  and 
openmindedness  amounted  to.  What  could  you 
expect,  when  you  sprung  on  them  such  a  new  idea 
as  that  the  war  was  over  ?  They  don't  know  that, 
and  they'll  not  believe  it  on  your  authority." 

"Bob,  what  I  said  was  all  true  and  sound.  It 
can  be  disputed  only  by  blind  bigotry ;  it  is  ac- 
cepted by  all  dispassionate  thinkers.  I'll  get  the 
thing  and  let  you  read  it."  And  he  began  to  rum- 
mage among  his  papers. 

"O,  thank  you  very  much,  but  I'm  content  to 
take  your  word  for  it  —  entirely  so.  Dispassionate 
thinkers,  I  dare  say :  keep  it  for  an  audience  of 
such.  As  you  don't  find  them  hereabouts,  why 
should  you  incur  the  odium  of  a  prophet  out  of 
season  ?" 

"But  the  people  must  be  instructed.  How  are 
they  ever  to  learn  unless  somebody  tries  to  teach 
them  ?  Their  newspapers  won't  do  it,  and  I 
thought  I  had  a  chance  to." 

"  Let  those  do  it  who  have  a  following,  and  can 
afford  to  take  the  risks.  Why  should  you  tilt  at 
windmills?  You're  young,  and  not  widely  recog- 
nized as  a  leader  yet.  And  then  you're  from  the 
wrong  side  of  the  line." 

"  Why  do  you  bring  that  up  ?  I  was  but  eight 
when  the  war  broke  out,  and  my  people  had  nothing 
to  do  with  it.  I've  not  been  South  for  ten  years, 


144  -A  Fourth  of  July  Oration. 

and  have  no  prejudice  at  all  on  that  score.  I'm 
not  even  a  Democrat;  I  don't  vote — not  seeing 
much  of  late  years  to  vote  for.  The  speech  was 
strictly  unpartisan.  My  being  originally  from  a 
border  state  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  question." 

"  Not  in  the  clear  white  light  of  Truth,  doubt- 
less ;  but  it  weighs  with  these  stalwarts,  who  call 
any  man  a  rebel  that  is  not  of  their  opinion.  The 
unpartisan  character  of  your  humble  effort  was  its 
worst  offence  ;  how  should  they  understand  a  posi- 
tion they  never  dreamed  of  ?  When  an  Indepen- 
dent movement  comes,  the  hacks  will  hate  it  worse 
than  they  do  the  other  party.  And  you've  actually 
been  trying  to  initiate  one  all  by  yourself,  and  here 
of  all  places  ?  Do  you  really  think  it  was  pru- 
dent, or  modest  either,  to  essay  the  conversion  of 
the  community  so  suddenly  ?  You  can't  expect 
people  to  be  reasonable  in  politics  and  religion. 
It's  not  peculiar  to  this  town,  or  to  the  state. 
You'll  find  the  same  thing  in  our  back  counties, 
where  the  Weekly  Forum  gives  the  law." 

"  Perhaps  I  ought  to  have  allowed  for  the  force 
of  prejudice.  Jeremy  Taylor  says, '  As  well  charm 
a  fever  asleep  with  the  noise  of  bells,  as  make 
any  pretence  of  reason  against  that  religion  old 
men  have  entailed  on  their  heirs  male  so  many 
generations.'  One  generation  has  done  it  in  this 
case :  political  superstition  is  as  bad  as  the  other, 
I  suppose." 

"Worse,  for  the   other  is  merely  a  traditional 


A  Fourth  of  July  Oration.  145 

attachment  to  theories  and  forms.  Except  with 
the  parsons,  it  bears  no  close  relation  to  busi- 
ness: the  rest  have  merely  the  limited  glory  of 
being  trustees  and  vestrymen.  Whereas  in  poli- 
tics, every  man  has  a  vote,  and  pays  taxes  ;  some 
of  them  have  friends  in  office,  or  hope  to  be  post- 
masters themselves." 

"Well,  what  would  you  have  done  in  my  place?" 

"  Restricted  my  eloquence  to  the  safe  and  ap- 
proved Spread  Eagle ;  enlarged  on  our  unprece- 
dented growth  and  advance,  specially  in  this  sec- 
tion,—  the  vast  agricultural  resources,  the  free  and 
boundless  prairies,  the  gorgeous  Future  knocking 
at  our  doors.  That  would  have  hit  them  where 
they  live,  and  preserved  serenity  and  brotherly 
feeling." 

"  Stale  and  wearisome  platitudes,  repeated  ad 
nauseam  in  every  weekly  paper  !  Would  you 
have  told  them  nothing  they  didn't  know  before  ?" 

"  They  don't  want  to  hear  anything  they  didn't 
know  before.  My  child,  platitudes,  decently  clad, 
are  always  welcome.  The  attempt  to  teach  people 
new  tricks  and  uproot  their  venerable  dogmas  im- 
plies an  offensive  assumption  of  superiority,  which 
they  resent  of  course.  You've  not  yet  learned  the 
secret  of  popular  instruction,  which  is  simply  to 
bring  forth  with  a  solemn  air  of  deep  conviction, 
and  if  possible  as  new  discoveries,  what  your 
hearers  believe  already.  It's  all  Arrangement 
and  Style,  as  the  books  told  you  long  ago  ;  the 


146  A  Fourth  of  July  Oration. 

Invention  is  merely  nominal.  Not  matter,  but 
manner  brings  down  the  house,  and  carries  the 
audience  along.  Till  you  master  this  art,  you 
cannot  become  one  of  the  Great  and  Good ;  never 
President,  and  not  even  a  congressman." 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

AN    EXAMINATION. 

His  second  eye-opening  experience  had  been  in 
this  way.  A  department  of  English  was  vacant 
in  the  High  School  of  one  of  the  larger  towns ; 
the  duties  were  entirely  within  Dick's  competency, 
and  friends  advised  him  to  apply  for  the  place. 
He  had  no  difficulty  in  obtaining  sufficient  testi- 
monials, but  the  appointment  was  made  to  depend 
on  a  competitive  examination.  This  was  conducted 
by  the  local  superintendent  of  schools,  a  gentleman 
who  enjoyed  the  double  repute  of  an  active,  bust- 
ling official  and  a  universal  scholar.  Seeing  that 
his  range  included  all  subjects  from  kindergarten 
up,  and  that  he  had  to  be  a  man  of  affairs  no  less 
than  a  man  of  ideas  and  books,  here  was  a  task  for 
the  most  lucid  and  comprehensive  intellect.  So 
heavy  and  heterogeneous  a  load,  like  those  of  the 
mules  in  New  Mexico,  could  be  carried  only  by 
the  most  dextrous  and  methodical  packing,  and  the 
packer  must  possess  the  secret  of  his  art.  Where 
dates,  declensions,  and  formulas  are  considered  in 


148  An  Examination. 

lieu  of  pans  and  picks  and  bundles  of  cloth  and 
flour  and  sugar,  Defmiteness  is  plainly  that  secret. 
Each  point  must  be  exactly  placed  and  sharpened, 
to  each  question  there  must  be  one  precise  an- 
swer, for  each  topic  an  accepted  authority  whose 
word  is  law.  If  you  begin  to  doubt  and  inquire 
and  discuss,  and  admit  a  possibility  of  different 
views  or  of  leaving  a  subject  open,  you  will  make 
slow  progress  and  never  be  able  to  cover  the 
ground.  The  mind  wants  positive  knowledge  and 
fixed  conviction ;  therefore  the  laws  of  thought 
and  language  must  be  as  absolute  as  the  tenet  that 
twice  five  is  ten.  Before  this  tribunal  Grafton 
fared  somewhat  as  follows. 

"  What  are  the  rules  for  the  use  of  the 
comma  ?  " 

"  Each  book  has  a  different  set,  and  none  of 
them  are  wholly  satisfactory.  Some  of  the  rules 
generally  accepted  are  open  to  serious  exception. 
No  set  can  approach  exhaustiveness,  unless  drawn 
out  to  wearisome  and  impracticable  length." 

The  examiner  opened  his  light  blue  eyes  to  their 
widest  extent,  uplifted  his  Jovian  brow,  and  in- 
quired with  sarcasm,  "Would  you  dispense  with 
rules  then  ? " 

"  Not  altogether.  With  very  young  or  dull 
pupils  I  would  follow  such  as  the  book  contained, 
whatever  it  might  be — with  qualifications,  of 
course.  To  the  more  advanced  I  would  explain 
that  an  underlying  principle  is  to  be  borne  in 


An  Examination.  149 

mind  and  applied  to  differing  cases  by  their  own 
intelligence  ;  and  that  the  comma  is  not  always 
of  equal  weight,  but  represents  a  sliding  scale  of 
pauses  of  the  voice  or  mind,  from  the  slightest  to 
that  indicated  by  the  semicolon." 

"  You  regard  punctuation  then  as  optional, 
unimportant  ?  " 

"  On  the  contrary ;  it  is  so  important,  and  so 
generally  neglected,  that  it  makes  a  call  on  the 
reflective  faculties,  and  should  not  be  left  merely 
to  the  memory." 

"  We  will  pass  that  point  then.  How  do  you 
classify  prepositions  ?  " 

Dick  reflected  a  moment.  "  In  English  I  see 
no  basis  for  a  classification  that  shall  be  of  any 
value.  With  prepositional  phrases  it  is  other- 
wise." 

"  Indeed  ?  Have  not  Professor  Drybones  and 
Dr.  Hairsplit  thought  differently  ?  " 

"  Very  possibly.  Able  and  learned  men  have 
their  whims,  by  which  the  rest  of  us  scarcely  need 
be  bound.  I  could  classify  prepositions  in  several 
ways,  but  none  of  the  results  would  be  worth  the 
labor." 

"That  may  well  be,"  said  the  examiner  sagely; 
and  the  youngest  committeeman  tittered.  "  You 
appear  to  have  little  respect  for  divisions,  Mr. 
Grafton,  and  for  rules.  May  I  ask  why  ? " 

"Certainly,  sir.  It  is  because  the  undue  stress 
often  laid  on  them  misleads  the  student,  who 


150  An  Examination. 

ought  to  be  encouraged  to  look  into  the  reason 
and  nature  of  things  for  himself.  Grammatical 
rules  exist  merely  for  convenience*  sake,  as 
means  toward  an  end,  as  more  or  less  dim  adum- 
brations of  truth :  to  take  them  for  the  end  to  be 
reached,  the  inmost  truth  of  the  matter,  is  to  be 
misled.  Language  is  but  the  imperfect  instru- 
ment of  an  imperfect  agent ;  but  both  the  mind 
and  this  its  chief  product  and  tool  are  flexible, 
capacious,  ever  changing,  and  not  to  be  hemmed 
in  and  tied  down  by  formulas." 

The  superintendent  of  schools  looked  from  side 
to  side  of  his  long  table,  but  none  of  his  commit- 
teemen  had  anything  to  suggest.  Then,  like  one 
threatened  with  drowning  in  a  metaphysic  sea, 
who  grasps  at  the  first  solid  object  within  reach, 
he  asked,  "What  is  a  complement?" 

"  A  term  employed  to  indicate  two  very  differ- 
ent things,  object  and  attribute.  I  should  tell  my 
pupils  to  use  in  either  case  the  word  which  ex- 
pressed the  fact,  and  discard  the  ambiguous  and 
comparatively  meaningless  '  complement.' ' 

Mr.  Grinder  shook  his  head  sadly.  "  If  you 
please,  gentlemen,  we  will  pass  from  Grammar 
to  Rhetoric.  Do  you  place  Imagery  among  the 
Qualities  of  Style  ? " 

"That  depends  on  the  point  of  view.  If  you 
choose  to  put  it  there,  I  would  not  wish  to  say 
you  were  wrong  ;  but  I  hardly  care  to  settle  the 
matter,  not  thinking  myself  a  final  authority." 


An  Examination.  151 

"  Doubtless  not.  But  you  perhaps  have  an 
opinion  ? " 

"O  yes.  I  am  content  to  hold  by  Clearness, 
Force,  and  Grace  as  the  main  qualities,  and  to 
consider  Imagery  as  contributive  to  any  of  these 
in  turn,  or  to  all  three  at  once ;  but  I  have  no 
wish  to  dogmatize,  for  the  case  does  not  admit  of 
it.  It's  not  as  if  you  were  dealing  with  rocks  and 
gases." 

The  examiner's  eye  brightened  ;  he  did  not 
listen  to  the  superfluous  close  of  this  statement. 
He  was  not  an  unkindly  man  at  bottom,  and  had 
no  wish  too  deeply  to  disgrace  this  presumptuous 
rationalist.  Moreover  he  dearly  loved  to  trot  out 
an  authority.  "  Ahem  ;  gentlemen,  I  may  men- 
tion the  fact  that  the  eminent  Professor  Botch  on 
this  point  agrees  with  Mr.  Graf  ton." 

The  committee,  who  had  been  looking  grave, 
now  pricked  up  their  ears  and  smiled  wisely  on 
each  other.  All  no  doubt  deeply  familiar  with 
the  fame  and  works  of  Professor  Botch,  they 
beamed  upon  the  candidate,  as  if  to  say,  '  Right 
for  once  ;  this  is  not  so  scandalously  bad  after 
-all.' 

But  Dick,  with  his  incorrigible  candor,  refused 
to  accept  this  advantage.  "  My  dear  sir,  that  by 
no  means  proves  my  position  correct.  Professor 
Botch  is  rather  noted  for  his  loose  and  even  wild 
assertions  ;  see  his  last  book  gone  over  in  The 
People  two  weeks  ago.  But  if  he  stood  much 


I52  An  Examination. 

higher  than  he  does  for  accuracy  and  sound  judg- 
ment, still  he  would  have  no  more  right  to  settle 
this  question  than  you  or  I." 

The  committee  looked  puzzled,  the  examiner 
disgusted.  "At  this  rate  we  shall  settle  nothing, 
I  fear.  Well,  Mr.  Grafton,  at  least  you  have  read 
Thomson,  I  presume.  Can  you  give  me  the  dates 
of  his  birth  and  death,  and  of  the  appearance  of 
his  principal  works  ?" 

"  No,  sir :  I  do  not  burden  my  memory  with 
such  details.  I  know  where  to  find  them  when 
needed,  and  that  is  sufficient." 

"  You  would  have  found  it  advantageous  to 
have  them  on  hand  now,  sir." 

But  I  have  no  desire  to  exhaust  the  reader's 
patience,  and  my  topic  is  not  Grammar,  but  Graf- 
ton.  He  replied  to  succeeding  queries  in  the 
same  unprecedented  manner,  as  if  the  object  in 
view  were  the  ascertainment  of  general  Truth, 
and  not  the  securing  of  a  particular  appointment. 

"Well,"  I  remarked,  when  he  had  concluded  his 
narrative,  "  so  that's  your  idea  of  the  way  to  con- 
duct your  end  of  an  examination.  And  yet  you 
didn't  get  the  berth  ?  That  is  strange,  now.  Do 
you  think  you  took  the  best  road  to  attain  your 
end  ?  " 

"  I  was  there  to  answer  his  questions,  and  show 
what  I  knew  and  thought,  so  far  as  opportunity 
offered.  It  was  plain  from  the  start  that  I  had 
no  chance  for  the  place,  his  views  and  mine  were 


An  Examination.  153 

so  antipodal.  He  wanted  some  little  martinet, 
who  had  Truth  all  cut  and  dried  and  done  up  in 
brown  paper  parcels  weighing  so  much  apiece. 
At  that  rate,  his  ideal  school  ought  to  be  easily 
realized.  Yet  they  say  he's  a  very  efficient 
man." 

"And  that's  more  than  you  will  be,  Richard, 
till  you  acquire  the  virtue  of  Adaptability.  You 
must  have  that  to  be  Available.  Having  tried  for 
this  place,  you  should  have  kept  on  trying  to  the 
bitter  end." 

"Why,  what  could  I  do,  after  the  turn  things 
took,  but  bear  my  testimony  ? " 

"  Kept  it  in  your  pocket  till  called  for,  which 
was  not  on  that  occasion.  It  wasn't  an  open  de- 
bate, nor  were  you  there  on  equal  terms.  Why 
should  you  defy  and  antagonize  one  whose  good 
will  and  word  you  were  seeking  ?  " 

"  I  wasn't  seeking  to  rise  by  falsehood.  If  a 
man  says  that  black  is  white,  or  that  we  are  in  the 
thirteenth  century,  am  I  to  agree  with  him  ? " 

"  Some  would,  and  wisely :  you  might  at  least 
keep  still  and  not  contradict  him.  When  you're 
after  a  place  in  his  gift,  it's  better  to  seem  not  to 
know,  and  accept  his  corrections,  than  do  that. 
He  expects  you  to  be  meek  and  deferential,  not  to 
fly  at  him  like  the  rugged  Russian  bear,  the  armed 
rhinoceros,  or  the  Hyrcan  tiger.  That's  no  way 
to  treat  your  superiors." 

"  Grinder  is  not  my  superior   in  anything  but 


154  -An  Examination. 

years.     If  I  were  the  examiner,  I  could  break  him 
to  pieces  as  easily  as  he  did  me." 

"Very  likely;  but  that's  neither  here  nor  there. 
You  will  insist  on  intrinsic  valuations,  which  are 
of  no  account  except  for  our  private  satisfaction. 
The  world  cares  only  for  the  outside,  and  judges 
by  that.  When  you  get  to  be  Somebody,  you  can 
ride  your  hobbies  in  public,  and  lay  down  the  law 

-  within  judicious  limits.  You'll  know  how  to 
do  it  then,  and  Greatness  has  its  privileges.  But 
to  mount  the  first  rounds  of  the  ladder  you  must 
show  your  smooth  side,  and  say  and  do  what  is 
expected  of  you,  and  swear  by  the  prevalent  deities. 
You  profess  to  venerate  Facts,  yet  you  wont  show 
a  decent  respect  to  those  that  lie  closest  round 
you,  even  when  their  sharp  edges  press  you  hard, 
and  perhaps  cut  you.  They  are  mundane,  I  admit, 
not  celestial ;  but  the  millennium  hasn't  arrived 
yet,  and  while  you  are  in  Babylon  it's  as  well  to 
obey  Babylonish  laws  and  comply  with  established 
usages." 


CHAPTER   XX. 

JOURNALISTIC    PROSPECTS. 

WE  sat  up  late  and  undisturbed  that  evening, 
listening  in  intervals  of  talk  to  the  roaring  blasts 
without.  The  night  was  blue  and  white,  to  the 
vision  all  snow  and  moon  and  sky,  to  ear  and  flesh 
somewhat  too  boisterous.  I  had  thought  of  a 
sleighride,  but  not  in  this  temperature,  nor  amid 
drifts  eight  feet  deep.  And  indeed,  there  was  work 
to  be  done  indoors.  I  do  not  love  to  be  harsh 
with  a  fellow-creature,  but  the  time  had  come 
for  very  open  dealings  with  my  misguided  friend. 
The  crust  of  his  self-indulgent  indifferentism 
needed  to  be  broken,  and  his  spirit  roused  to 
grapple  with  the  tasks  of  life.  So  free  a  critic 
could  not  object  to  be  criticised  in  turn  :  he  must 
bear  the  plain  speech  he  loved  and  practised.  To 
say  truth,  he  would  always  listen  fairly  to  another's 
view,  however  it  might  rasp  his  own  ;  I  will  do 
him  that  justice.  So  I  girded  myself  for  an  as- 
sault upon  his  citadel,  and  the  conversation  ensued 
which  is  recorded  in  the  first  chapter  of  this  his- 


1 56  Journalistic  Prospects. 

tory.  I  have  put  it  there  because  it  reveals  the 
very  inmost  of  Grafton's  mind ;  by  turning  back 
the  reader  will  see  him  in  his  habit  as  he  lived, 
without  concealment  or  disguise  —  not  that  these 
were  ever  much  in  his  way :  less  frankness  would 
have  made  him  fatter — and  with  all  his  imperfec- 
tions on  his  head.  So  long  as  his  battle  was  to  be 
fought,  as  he  needed  anything  from  the  world,  no 
one  should  have  learned  from  me  the  depth  of  his 
unwisdom ;  but  the  revelation  cannot  hurt  him 
now. 

Next  morning  Dick  came  in  from  the  postoffice, 
as  I  sat  dolefully  before  his  stove  with  a  cigar  and 
last  week's  local  paper.  His  face  was  rosy  from 
the  cold,  and  wore  an  amused  smile.  "Well,  old 
man,  you  thought  I  made  an  unmitigated  ass  of 
myself  in  that  examination  at  Miletus,  didn't 
you?" 

"About  that  —  though  the  expression  is  your 
own.  But  I'm  not  infallible,  and  we  live  to  learn. 
You  haven't  got  the  place,  surely?" 

"  O  no  ;  that  was  filled  a  month  ago.  But  I  had 
two  votes,  and  one  of  the  brightest  of  the  com- 
mittee, the  editor  of  a  leading  paper  there,  listened 
rather  closely  to  the  display  of  Grinder's  learning 
and  my  imbecility.  He  took  me  to  dinner  after- 
wards, was  very  civil,  and  asked  me  i*  I  had  ever 
thought  of  journalism.  He  was  not  in  love  with 
the  superintendent,  I  thought." 

"  And  this,  as  a  mere  beggarly  external,  was  not 


Journalistic  Prospects.  157 

worth  mentioning  in  your  report  to  me,  eh  ?  What 
did  you  say  to  the  man  ?" 

"  It  had  no  essential  connection  with  what  we 
were  talking  of  last  night.  I  told  him  editing  had 
never  come  my  way  yet,  but  I  was  willing  to  think 
of  it  should  occasion  arise.  He  said  nothing  defi- 
nite then  ;  seemed  merely  to  be  sounding  me.  But 
now  he  writes  that  he  can  make  a  vacancy  for  me 
if  I  care  to  take  it." 

"Will  it  be  worth  your  while  ?' 

"  It  may.  The  pay  is  rather  more  than  I  make 
here:  it  is  a  much  larger  town,  and  I've  had  about 
enough  of  this.  I  should  attend  to  reporting  cases 
in  court,  and  educational  and  literary  matters :  he 
wants  to  make  a  specialty  of  them." 

While  we  were  discussing  the  prospect  Mr. 
Rustler  entered,  and  was  taken  into  our  coun- 
sels. 

"  It'd  leave  only  nineteen  of  us,"  he  said  medi- 
tatively," and  an  even  number  looks  handsomer. 
Still,  if  it's  for  his  betterment — I  don't  know  who 
I  should  get  to  do  my  copyin',  but  I  wont  ask 
him  to  stay  for  that.  If  he'd  've  shook  himself, 
now,  and  put  on  steam,  and  gone  in  with  me,  as 
you  and  me  wanted  him  to  —  but  he  just  wouldn't. 
I  been  clean  out  o'  patience  with  him,  specially 
since  that  Fourth  of  July  business." 

"Why,  Rustler,"  Dick  interposed,  "you  owned 
to  me,  privately,  that  I  was  right,  in  the  abstract." 

"  Dash   the   abstract.     Those   notions  '11  be  all 


158  Journalistic  Prospects. 

right  next  generation,  or  might  be  now  in  Boston  : 
but  you  ain't  in  Boston,  and  what's  the  use  of 
preachin'  to  posterity?  As  the  man  said,  what'd 
posterity  ever  do  for  you  ?  What  you  want  to  be 
ahead  of  your  time  for?  If  you'd  been  runnin' 
for  constable,  you  wouldn't  've  raised  one  vote  in 
ten,  after  that  speech.  No,  sir,  he  wont  ever  do 
no  good  here,  that's  a  fact ;  and  perhaps  makin'  a 
new  start  in  another  place  '11  sort  of  shake  him  up. 
Then  he's  the  kind  of  cuss  that  works  better  by 
the  day  'n  by  the  job  ;  fact,  and  blamed  little  to  his 
credit.  I'd  a  darned  sight  rather  work  for  myself  ; 
but  he's  not  got  the  sand  to  take  contracts.  Put 
him  on  a  salary,  and  he'll  feel  bound  to  earn  it ; 
he's  got  that  sort  of  a  slow,  down-east  spirit  in 
him.  Leave  that  out,  and  it'll  be  nigh  about  the 
same  as  here,  I  s'pect.  You've  got  to  hustle  in 
editin',  same  as  in  law,  if  you  want  to  get  ahead. 
You  wont  see  him  set  the  Mississippi  afire ;  no, 
sir.  But  if  it's  nice  clean  work,  so's  to  suit  him, 
he  may  do  a  bit  better  'n  he's  done  here.  Law- 
reportin',  is  it  ?  O,  he  can  see  the  points  of  a 
case,  once  others  have  carried  it  through.  I'd 
rather  have  him  report  my  cases  'n  work  'em  up  or 
argue  'em  —  a  dam  sight  rather.  But  all  the 
law  Jandyke  can  put  in  his  paper  wont  keep 
Grafton  busy  more  'n  four  days  in  a  month,  and 
how's  he  to  earn  his  meals  rest  of  the  time  ? 
Lookin'  sharp  after  Grinder,  and  comin'  down 
on  him  once  a  quarter  or  so,  wont  fill  up.  Book- 


Journalistic  Prospects.  159 

reviewin',  eh  ?  Yes,  he  can  tell  the  women  which 
novels  is  fit  for  'em  to  read  —  and  write  his  own 
poetry  for  the  obituaries,  likely.  Charge  extra  for 
that,  don't  they  ?  Might  be  a  good  lay,  that.  No  ? 
Then  I'm  darned  if  I  can  see  how  you'll  make 
a  business  or  a  livin'  out  of  all  these  drippin's 
together." 

"  Come,  Rustler,"  said  Dick,  perversely  de- 
lighted, "don't  be  so  discouraging.  You  oughtn't 
to  look  with  scorn  on  a  sister  profession,  you 
know." 

"The  sister  profession,  youngster,  is  made  up 
mostly  of  two  branches  you're  noways  fit  to 
navigate.  That  is,  the  writin'  part.  Politics  you 
daresn't  touch,  or  the  fat  'd  be  in  the  fire  as  'twas 
with  us  last  summer.  Catch  me  recommendin' 
you  to  orate  another  Fourth  of  July !  And  as  for 
local  news,  how 're  you  to  know  whose  squash's 
taken  prizes  at  County  Fair,  or  what  girls  from  the 
rural  parts  are  visitin'  at  Miss  Duck's,  or  which 
policeman-  caught  the  last  burglar  ?  Th'  other 
papers  'd  get  the  facts  down  a  month  before  you'd 
hear  of  'em.  As  to  business,  I  don't  s'pose  Jan- 
dyke  'd  trust  you  with  that,  if  his  head's  halfways 
level.  Don't  let  him  send  you  out  to  dun  sub- 
scribers or  tout  for  new  ads.,  or  you  wont  keep 
the  place  a  week.  You  get  a  nice  new  desk,  and 
have  it  railed  in,  and  sit  there  with  a  nice  new 
scissors  and  the  Eastern  papers.  Once  in  a  while 
you  might  go  to  a  high-toned  concert,  or  a  select 


160  Journalistic  Prospects. 

family  circle  kind  of  play,  and  write  that  up,  but 
no  minstrels  or  such  —  nothin'  common.  I  hate 
to  have  you  go  to  Miletus  anyway  :  it's  a  big  town, 
and  your  morals  may  get  hurt.  Reckon  I'll  have 
to  move  down  there  and  protect  'em." 

When  he  was  gone  Dick  said,  "  Do  you  know 
what  I  should  most  regret  in  leaving  this  ?" 

"Rustler,  rather  than  Mrs.  Claybank?     Why?" 

"  She  palls  on  you  before  long.  But  he's  so 
racy  and  virile  and  suggestive.  He  paints  things 
in  a  good  broad  glare,  with  no  sidelights  or  shad- 
ings.  You  rarely  get  such  a  full-front  view  of 
yourself,  with  the  sun  in  your  eyes."  And  the 
subject  of  this  unflattering  portrait  sat  and  laughed 
till  the  tears  came.  This  was  one  of  his  peculiari- 
ties, that,  however  hard  the  jest  or  the  argument 
might  hit  him,  he  was  always  ready  to  recognize 
and  rejoice  in  a  point  well  made.  Truth  in  his 
view  gained  and  lost  nothing  by  having  a  personal 
edge ;  his  egoism  was  curiously  free  from  vulgar 
vanity.  In  his  way,  poor  boy,  he  was  as  consistent 
as  man  born  of  woman  may  be. 

His  practice,  then  in  its  third  year,  showed  no 
signs  of  increasing;  his  copying  was  mere  journey- 
man's work.  His  pupils  were  nearly  ready  for 
college,  and  others  might  not  come  to  take  their 
place,  for  that  small  town  supplied  few  materials 
for  a  permanent '  connection  '  of  this  kind.  All  told, 
his  income  could  not  equal  the  six  hundred  a  year 
offered  by  the  Boomerang.  I  went  with  him  to 


Journalistic  Prospects.  161 

Miletus,  which  was  certainly  a  great  improvement 
on  Tackville.  It  could  show  handsome  business 
blocks,  stores  worthy  of  Broadway,  and  residences 
such  as  you  may  see  about  Central  Park.  A  great 
river  flowed  at  its  feet :  it  was  on  a  main  line  of 
travel,  and  several  hours  nearer  the  East.  "You 
will  be  less  out  of  the  world  here,  my  boy ;  it  is 
more  like  civilization,"  I  had  to  admit,  as  I  took 
the  cars.  Mr.  Jandyke  seemed  a  fair  man,  and  all 
was  satisfactorily  arranged.  In  the  early  spring 
Grafton  gave  his  last  lessons,  said  a  cordial  fare- 
well to  Mrs.  Claybank,  and  turned  his  back  on  the 
scene  of  his  first  adult  venture.  His  departure, 
I  believe,  was  sincerely  regretted  by  a  few,  but 
left  no  aching  void  in  the  local  body  politic. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

MILESIAN    OPPORTUNITIES. 

OF  Grafton's  new  experience  no  detailed  account 
need  be  given.  One  third-class  inland  town  is 
much  like  another,  and  editorial  life  in  these  has 
been  sufficiently  depicted  in  the  work  entitled 
"Seth's  Brother's  Wife."  Dick's  case,  however, 
differed  from  that  of  Fairchild  in  several  particu- 
lars. His  tasks  were  in  good  degree  separated 
and  denned  ;  it  was  not  his  way  to  expend  much 
time  or  cash  in  the  unhallowed  precincts  of  the 
beer-saloon  ;  and  he  did  not  rise  in  his  profession. 

In  truth,  it  was  always  easier  to  tell  what  he 
did  not,  do  than  what  he  did.  He  still  wore  the 
air  of  being  undesirous  to  make  or  receive  any 
strong  impression,  of  keeping  aloof  from  life. 
Like  Theodore  Winthrop,  he  was  'proud  of  his 
individuality,  and  resisted  all  the  world's  attempts 
to  merge  him  in  the  mass.'  That  may  answer 
when  one's  tree  can  bear  uncommon  fruit ;  till 
justified  by  such  a  crop,  the  world  cares  not  a 
brass  sixpence  for  your  individuality,  and  thinks  you 


Milesian  Opportunities.  163 

—  if  it  deigns  to  notice  your  case  at  all  —  a  ninny 
to  build  a  house  of  self-complacence  on  so  narrow 
and  sandy  a  foundation.  In  Grafton's  case  the 
attempts  at  merging,  never  numerous,  were  now 
wholly  intermitted.  Miletus  enshrined  some  very 
good  society  —  so  good  that,  as  with  Seth  afore- 
mentioned, it  was  out  of  reach  of  an  obscure 
subeditor.  Or  rather  the  sub,  if  endowed  with 
Dick's  bearing  and  education  and  with  a  resolute 
ambition,  might  perchance  in  time  have  been 
privileged  to  ring  those  exclusive  door-bells,  gaze 
admiringly  on  the  treasures  of  art  and  upholstery 
within,  and  on  dancing  nights  even  to  enfold  the 
West  Hill's  daughters  in  partial  and  reverent 
embrace.  But  of  ambition  of  any  sort,  as  long  ago 
stated,  Dick  had  not  enough  to  float  him ;  and 
why  should  Wealth  and  Fashion  note  the  existence 
of  a  poor  young  scribbler  who  has  not  spirit 
enough  to  approach  on  bended  knee  and  crave  the 
boon  of  kissing  their  sacred  feet  ? 

If  either  the  human  or  the  artistic  sensibilities 
had  been  more  strongly  developed  in  him,  he 
might  have  found  a  pure  or  throbbing  joy  in  the 
widening  of  his  horizon ;  for  Main  Street,  on  any 
clear  afternoon,  could  afford  spectacles  such  as 
had  rarely  been  presented  to  his  organs  during 
the  last  three  and  a  half  years.  When  one  has 
been  in  banishment  a  while — in  the  mountains 
after  big  game,  or  on  the  plains  cattle-raising,  or 
penned  by  exigencies  of  business  in  some  remote 


164  Milesian  Opportunities. 

nook  of  the  coal  or  oil  regions,  looking  up  dull 
but  auriferous  details  of  some  great  producing 
interest  —  how  it  stirs  the  blood  to  feel  the  pave- 
ment under  foot  again,  and  to  behold  fairy  forms 
approach,  garbed  in  the  latest  marvels  of  Pinkfern 
and  Mme.  Belletete  !  A  halo  seems  to  encircle 
them  ;  you  wonder  if  they  have  not  wings.  They 
are  a  celestial  vision,  the  noblest  joint  product  of 
art  and  nature  :  if  custom  only  allowed  it,  you 
would  like  to  fall  down  and  burn  incense.  When 
you  have  been  in  town  a  few  days,  and  are  taken 
to  call  on  these  same  sirens,  the  divinity  has 
mostly  rubbed  off,  and  their  talk  is  probably 
human  and  insipid  enough ;  but  when  you  first  get 
back  from  a  month's  yachting,  or  a  sojourn  in  the 
Wayback  Woods,  you  feel  as  if  you  were  in  an 
improved  Mohammedan  paradise,  ennobled  by  a 
highly  superior  and  spiritualized  race  of  houris, 
who  have  souls  finer  than  ours,  and  are  not  to  be 
touched  on  any  account,  but  only  gazed  upon 
adoringly.  That  is,  on  the  street ;  the  right 
streets  I  mean,  of  course,  and  at  the  right  hours  : 
it  is  somehow  different  indoors,  on  a  closer  and 
continued  view.  O,  shade  of  N.  P.  Willis,  you 
spent  your  life  and  most  of  your  soul,  in  days 
when  they  applied  to  it  the  text,  Adhcesit  pavi- 
mento,  over  this  kind  of  thing,  but  you  never 
exhausted  the  subject,  nor  even  did  justice  to 
it,  whether  in  your  glittering  prose  or  your 
rippling  verse.  To  feel  the  enchantment  at  its 


Milesian  Opportunities.  165 

fullest,  you  should  make  your  leap  from  the  desert 
into  some  city  where  you  have  little  or  no  ac- 
quaintance, say  Cincinnati  or  Baltimore.  On  my 
native  heath,  where  I  know  many  of  the  ladies, 
the  charm  does  not  work  so  well.  But  the  poet's 
mind  was  tottering  on  its  throne  when  he  wrote 
that  line  about  Beauty  when  unadorned  being 
adorned  the  most :  the  sex  knows  very  much 
better. 

I  never  could  instil  these  orthodox  sentiments 
into  Grafton,  who  in  some  respects,  it  pains  me 
to  own,  was  dull  and  deficient.  I  will  not  say 
that  he  cared  absolutely  nothing  for  feminine 
faces,  forms,  and  costumes ;  but  he  looked  on 
them  coldly,  as  if  they  were  hung  in  a  gallery  and 
he  were  no  collector.  "  I'm  not  a  nabob,"  he 
would  say  ;  "  I  can't  afford  expensive  tastes."  In 
this  he  was  below  the  level  of  Mr.  Haggard's 
savages  (in  '  She '),  who  venerated  their  wives, 
though  addicted  to  the  blameworthy  practice  of 
removing  them  when  they  grew  troublesome.  As 
Tennyson  says  of  King  Arthur,  the  right  thing 
is  to  love  one  woman  and  cleave  to  her ;  and  till 
the  time  comes  for  that,  you  can  distribute  your 
homage  promiscuously.  Arrange  the  programme 
as  you  please,  always  preserving  the  unsullied 
purity  without  which  man  is  unfit  to  approach 
Woman;  but  indifference  to  the  better  half  of 
humanity  is  a  crime  many  degrees  worse  than 
having  no  music  in  you.  It  is  against  nature,  and 


i66  Milesian  Opportunities. 

he  who  is  guilty  of  it  must  have  a  shameful  hollow 
in  his  head  where  the  bump  of  reverence  ought 
to  be.  As  a  rule  I  never  trust  that  kind  of  man  ; 
if  he  has  not  courage  enough  for  secret,  dark,  and 
midnight  wickedness,  he  will  usually  begin  as  a 
cold-blooded  sneak,  and  end  as  a  miser,  appropri- 
ately starving  in  grimy  solitude.  Dick  was  an 
exception  to  this  law,  as  to  most :  I  used  to  won- 
der how,  lacking  the  saving  grace  of  gyneolatry 
(or  perhaps  it  would  be  as  well  to  say  in  plain 
English,  Woman-worship)  he  could  amount  to  as 
much  as  he  did. 

With  so  much  society  in  range,  he  had  less 
than  before.  In  a  small  place  like  Tackville 
everybody  knows  everybody  else,  and  a  young 
man  who  is  not  positively  bearish  perforce  takes 
part  in  the  moderate  round  of  festivities  :  in  Mile- 
tus there  was  room  for  class  distinctions,  and  it 
was  possible  not  to  speak  to  your  neighbor  on  the 
street.  I  suppose  he  felt  the  finer  atmosphere 
in  his  languid  way,  but  thought  it  no  loss  to  be 
exempt  from  social  obligations.  For  the  rest,  it 
was  not  work  he  objected  to,  but  the  looking  for 
it ;  his  position  had  the  humble  advantages  of 
prescribed  duties,  a  monthly  stipend,  and  no 
office-rent  to  pay.  But  its  chief  attraction  in  his 
eyes  was  that  it  gave  him  without  cost  the  peri- 
odicals and  some  of  the  new  books,  with  occasion 
to  read  them  ;  to  be  paid  for  following  his  own 
tastes  was  thus  far  to  solve  the  problem  of 


Milesian  Opportunities.  167 

existence.  The  invention  of  printing  has  been 
a  boon  to  the  lazy  and  unsocial,  in  that  it  assists 
them  to  take  Life  at  second  hand.  Without 
leaving  slippers  and  easy-chair,  one  may  know 
what  is  going  on  in  the  street  and  across  the 
oceans :  you  may  dine  at  the  Russian  ambassa- 
dor's, and  note  all  the  types  of  home  and  foreign 
character,  yet  spare  the  fatigue  of  putting  on 
your  dress  coat  and  company  manners.  "  Yes," 
said  Dick,  when  I  made  a  visit  of  inspection  the 
following  spring,  "this  sort  of  thing  is  less  of  a 
bore  than  pupils  or  law  business.  People  are  less 
uninteresting  in  books  than  they  usually  are  in 
flesh  and  blood,  and  less  obtrusive  ;  you  can  get 
away  from  them  when  you  please.  Others  do  the 
jostling  and  move  the  scenery,  and  you  simply 
observe  their  activities,  note  their  points,  and 
say  what  you  think  of  the  show.  It's  more 
amusing  to  be  spectator  than  performer." 

"  You  don't  find  it  exciting,  then  ?  Do  you 
like  your  work  ?  " 

"  It's  well  enough,  but  in  no  way  thrilling.  If 
I  were  to  get  excited  over  it,  nobody  else  would." 

"  Then  you're  not  strongly  drawn  to  literature, 
after  all  ?  " 

"  I  don't  delude  myself  into  the  notion  that 
I'm  making  literature  because  I  write  on  literary 
topics.  I'm  only  a  hanger-on,  a  sort  of  camp- 
follower.  What  I  do  is  mere  skimmings ;  even 
I  don't  care  to  remember  it,  and  why  should  any 
one  else  ? " 


1 68  Milesian  Opportunities. 

"  Still,  I  should  think  you'd  want  to  do  your 
best,  while  you're  at  it." 

"  I  do.  Not  an  ideal  best,  but  the  best  I  can 
now  and  here,  the  best  the  occasion  calls  for. 
What  I  mean  is  that  the  circumstances  are  not 
stimulating.  Newspaper  criticism  goes  for  noth- 
ing, unless  in  one  or  two  of  the  New  York  and 
Boston  dailies.  And  out  here,  who  expects  it? 
Jandyke  flies  too  high :  I  doubt  if  it  pays  him  to 
keep  up  my  department." 

"  Well,  don't  saw  off  the  limb  you're  perched 
on.  That's  his  affair  to  determine,  not  yours." 

"  Yes,  he  doesn't  ask  me  for  advice.  While 
he  keeps  faith  with  me,  I  will  with  him,  of  course. 
If  he  wants  this  work,  I  do  it  well  enough  for  the 
purpose ;  but  what  does  it  amount  to  ?  What 
would  it  amount  to,  if  I  were  Hazlitt  and  Taine 
and  Sainte-Beuve  rolled  into  one  ?  " 

"  More  than  you  think,  perhaps.  You  might 
be  discovered  and  transplanted  to  bloom  in  a 
richer  soil  and  more  genial  climate." 

"O,  I  don't  know  that  I'm  particularly  worth 
discovering.  This  is  mere  prentice  work,  and  very 
possibly  I  shall  never  do  anything  better." 

"  You  don't  believe  that,  you  know ;  not  a  word 
of  it.  So  you  mean  to  be  an  author  ?  Well,  they 
say  in  that  trade  one  has  to  work  up  from  the  foot 
of  the  ladder." 

"I've  begun  a  rung  higher,  and  omitted  re- 
porting. Yes,  if  I  had  an  ambition  it  would  be  to 


Milesian  Opportunities.  169 

make  books  —  by  and  by,  when  I'm  older,  and 
know  enough." 

"  You  might  be  practising  now.  You  have 
some  spare  time,  haven't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  not  so  much  as  I  had  at  Tackville,  but 
several  hours  a  day.  Want  to  come  here  and 
study  ?  I'll  coach  you  at  reduced  rates." 

"  Don't  you  write  anything  beside  what  you 
put  in  the  Boomerang?  Novels,  and  stuff  for  the 
magazines  ?  Most  people  do,  I'm  told." 

"  Far  more  than  is  wanted.  I  marvel  at  the 
cheek  of  those  who  think  themselves  fit  to  in- 
struct the  universe  as  soon  as  they  are  out  of 
school.  You  and  I  are  mere  boys,  Bob,  though 
we've  been  loose  several  years  now  —  and  you've 
seen  more  than  I.  Our  minds  are  not  mature 
enough  yet  to  do  anything  permanent ;  we  want 
a  lot  more  experience.  How  should  I  write  a 
novel  — what  would  I  put  in  it  ?  I  can  comment 
and  analyze,  perhaps,  but  not  invent ;  I  have  no 
constructive  imagination  that  I'm  aware  of.  And 
I've  had  no  adventures  :  nothing  ever  happens  to 
me.  What  have  I  seen  or  heard  that's  worth 
recording  ? " 

"That's  because  you  keep  yourself  shut  up  so, 
and  practise  your  benumbing  old  theory  of  Indif- 
ference. If  you  would  go  out  like  other  fellows, 
and  take  an  interest  in  events  and  persons  more 
recent  than  Socrates,  things  would  happen,  and 
you  might  collect  plenty  of  literary  material. 


170  Milesian  Opportunities. 

Then  you'd  have  a  stock  in  trade,  and  be  ready 
to  open  shop,  you  see." 

"Thank  you:  I've  no  fancy  to  put  my  fingers 
in  the  fire,  that  I  may  be  able  to  tell  how  they 
were  burned.  Do  that  yourself,  if  you  like." 

"  Well,  you  might  look  into  your  heart  and 
write,  as  somebody  advised." 

"That  seems  to  be  as  empty  as  the  view  out- 
side. What  have  I  ever  had  to  fill  it  ?  I  might  have 
had,  you  say  ?  It  may  be  bad  taste,  but  I  don't 
admire  mock  rhapsodies,  and  engagements  made 
only  to  be  broken,  and  playing  with  what  ought 
to  be  serious.  Very  possibly  I'm  prudish  and  out 
of  date  ;  but  I  can't  claim  the  privileges  of  genius. 
I'm  not  a  Byron  or  a  Burns  or  a  Goethe,  to  get 
up  a  new  love-affair  each  month." 

"  One  in  a  year  or  two  would  be  enough  —  or 
even  less.  You  could  be  perfectly  sincere  in 
them,  and  exquisitely  high-minded ;  you  would, 
I  know.  It  would  be  most  instructive  to  see  you, 
and  especially  so  to  yourself.  You  could  note 
down  all  the  symptoms,  and  analyze  the  mental 
processes :  it  would  quite  make  a  man  of  you. 
Well,  if  you  wont  think  of  that,  can't  you  at  least 
string  rhymes  together  about  the  Moon,  and  the 
Return  of  Spring,  and  such  ?  The  monthlies  allow 
extra  rates  for  poetry;  it  pays  better  than  prose 
—  when  you  can  get  it  in.  You  might  even  thrash 
the  Socratic  Idea  into  metrical  shape.  Truth  and 


Milesian  Opportunities.  171 

Youth  —  Beauty  and   Duty  —  Miletus    and   Epic- 
tetus  :  why,  I  can  do  it  myself." 

"  Robert,  to  stop  your  eternal  catechising,  I 
will  throw  modesty  to  the  dogs.  You  keep  on 
insisting  that  I  should  do  this  or  that,  till  I'm 
forced  in  self-defence  to  show  you  what  I  have 
done."  He  opened  a  drawer  and  took  out  some 
manuscripts. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

DROPPING    INTO    POETRY. 

IF  I  had  suspected  what  was  in  that  drawer, 
I  would  not  have  sailed  so  near  the  wind  and 
tempted  Fate  thus  rashly. 

"You  have  only  yourself  to  blame  for  this." 
he  remarked.  "To  slake  your  thirst  for  useless 
knowledge,  and  assuage  your  somewhat  blind  and 
random  hortatory  zeal,  I'm  going  to  read  you 
these." 

"  Take  a  short  one,  Dick  ;  a  very  little  one  will 
do.  I'm  a  homeopath,  you  know.  Excuse  me 
if  I  spoke  unadvisedly,  not  knowing  how  you 
spent  the  midnight  hours  :  I  didn't  mean  to  pro- 
voke you  to  this  extent." 

He  grinned  malignantly,  selected  what  I  be- 
lieve was  the  worst  one  of  the  lot,  and  with  less 
than  is  decent  of  blushing  and  stammering  began 
to  read. 

"  Life  is  a  land  of  dreams 
We  cannot  render  real,  though  we  try 
With  many  bitter  tears,  and  schemes 
That  call  on  effort  and  philosophy. 


Dropping  into  Poetry.  1/3 

Between  the  fool  and  wise 
What  is  there?  what  between  the  mean  and  great? 

For  many  prosper  without  eyes, 
And  others'  seeing  is  their  griefs  estate. 

What  due  distinction  reigns 
Between  Nobility  in  rags,  and  Vice 

That  is  not  worth  the  jailer's  chains? 
Is  the  world  senseless,  or  are  we  too  nice?" 

"  Pause  right  there,"  I  cried.  "The  world  may 
be  senseless,  but  there's  no  doubt  whatever  about 
our  being  too  nice  —  a  blanked  sight,  as  Rustler 
would  say.  What's  the  good  of  those  conun- 
drums ?  They  don't  pay  for  that  kind  of  thing  : 
you  couldn't  even  print  it  in  the  Boomerang, 
except  at  advertising  rates  —  not  if  you  value 
your  present  berth." 

"You're  off  the  track,  Bob,"  the  bard  said 
coolly.  "  These  humble  effusions  are  not  in  the 
market.  I  don't  expect  to  make  anything  by 
them.  They're  merely  to  get  my  hand  in  and 
see  what  I  can  do,  which  is  very  little  as  yet ; 
simply  practice,  as  you  said  just  now." 

"  Then  why  not  practise  on  something  sensi- 
ble ?  They  say  the  Chinese  beggars  sit  in  the 
streets  of  Pekin  with  their  bones  protruding,  and 
howl  just  like  that  thing  you  read.  You're  not 
particularly  hard  up  just  now,  so  far  as  I  see  ; 
and  wailing,  tuneful  or  not,  hasn't  usually  been  in 
your  line." 

"  No,  I  trust  not.  You  have  a  literal  mind, 
Bob.  Those  verses  simply  represent  a  mood,  and 


1/4  Dropping  into  Poetry. 

exaggerate  it,  no  doubt.  We're  all  liable  to  be 
downcast  and  lachrymose  at  times,  in  idle  mo- 
ments ;  if  we  were  not,  there  would  be  less  alleged 
poetry.  The  closing  stanzas  of  that  are  the  best, 
but  I'll  spare  your  feelings,  since  you  take  it  so 
hard.  Here's  one  that  may  suit  you  better."  He 
turned  over  the  leaves,  and  I  again  resigned  my- 
self, though  really  this  was  pushing  Friendship 
too  far. 

"  These  hopes  and  dreams  of  mine  shall  live, 

Though  none  on  earth  should  share  them, 
Though  Fate  delay  her  crowns  to  give 

To  those  who  yet  shall  wear  them. 
Though  Time  with  slow  methodic  tread 

And  silent  step  moves  by  me, 
I  feel  the  garland  round  my  head, 

The  hours  of  glory  nigh  me! 

It  is  not  time,  ungalled  by  tears, 

That  stamps  the  wrinkles  keenly, 
For  some  might  live  a  thousand  years, 

Yet  wear  their  age  serenely; 
But  something  in  the  feeling  breast 

That  gnaws  its  fleshly  prison, 
That  yearns  too  bitterly  for  rest 

And  sees  too  bright  a  vision. 

And  so  its  light  is  clouded  here 

And  broken  is  its  singing, 
Though  caught  from  that  diviner  sphere 

Toward  which  the  soul  is  winging. 
And  ever  as  it  journeys  on 

The  darkness  clings  beside  it, 
Till  Death  beholds  the  victory  won 

That  Life  so  long  denied  it." 


Dropping  into  Poetry.  175 

"  Yes,  that  is  not  as  bad  as  the  other.  I've  seen 
things  in  print  that  were  not  much  better  than 
that,  really.  If  you  were  to  turn  it  over  in  your 
mind  again,  and  bring  it  out  in  a  different  shape, 
digested  and  compressed  —  The  double  rhyme  is 
a  good  deal  for  you  to  undertake,  don't  you  think  ? 
'  Prison'  and  '  vision  '  wont  do  at  all.  But  what's 
all  this  about  hopes  and  dreams,  and  crowns,  too  ? 
Are  you  really  after  something,  and  have  you 
concealed  the  fact  all  this  time  ?  What  are  your 
hopes  and  dreams,  anyway  ?  " 

"  Probably  I  only  dreamed  that  I  had  any. 
That's  the  outcome  of  another  mood,  no  more 
important  than  the  first.  Sometimes,  you  know, 
it  seems  as  if  Life  might  conceivably  be  of  some 
account,  if  circumstances  could  be  wholly  changed. 
And  when  you  write  verses  you  have  to  project 
yourself  into  a  poetical  frame  of  mind,  and  make 
the  most  of  limited  and  perishable  emotional  mate- 
rials ;  that's  why  it  looks  so  much  more  serious 
on  paper.  Every  one  has  fancies  of  that  kind, 
I  presume  —  except  densely  practical  men  like 
you.  I'd  like  to  see  you  try  to  go  beyond  your 
Duty  and  Beauty." 

It  was  plain  to  me  that  these  lyric  efforts  meant 
more  than  their  parent  cared  to  acknowledge,  and 
I  was  grieved  and  disgusted  by  them,  especially  by 
the  first.  But  it  was  not  my  cue  to  encourage 
this  downward  course,  or  give  even  such  sympathy 
as  lies  in  apparent  comprehension  to  questionings 


176  Dropping  into  Poetry. 

that  could  end  in  nothing  but  paralysis,  and 
lamentations  which  Grafton  had  always  been  too 
manly  to  utter  in  his  own  proper  person  and  in 
simple  prose.  His  case  had  been  bad  enough,  but 
if  it  were  to  be  complicated  with  poetical  woes  and 
yearnings,  I  should  begin  to  despair. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

HOMESICK. 

I  SAT  thinking  what  to  say  next,  when  he  took  up 
his  parable,  opening  as  it  seemed  a  new  subject. 
"Bob,  I  can  see  now  where  I  made  a  mistake." 

"  If  it  was  one  only,  you  were  wiser  than  most 
of  us.  I've  made  dozens,  and  so  have  you,  old 
man  —  a  string  of  them,  in  sad  succession." 

"  This  was  long  ago,  when  I  was  too  young 
to  understand.  I  ought  to  have  kept  the  old 
place." 

"  Down  there  in  Maryland  ?  Why,  you  always 
said  you  hated  farming." 

"  So  I  did  ;  but  I  might  have  learned  enough  of 
it  to  manage  what  was  left  of  the  estate.  One  has 
to  make  some  sacrifices,  and  I  might  better  have 
sacrificed  my  tastes  than  my  home ;  I'm  never 
likely  to  have  another.  Even  if  I  had  reserved 
merely  the  house  and  a  few  acres,  it  would  have  been 
something.  Birds  are  plenty  there  in  season,  and 
fish  the  year  round  ;  with  a  gun  and  a  rod  I  could 
have  kept  myself  alive,  and  been  independent." 


178  '  Homesick. 

"But  I  thought  the  whole  went  for  debts,  and 
to  take  you  through  college." 

"  It  might  have  been  managed  differently,  if  my 
guardian  had  taken  the  trouble  to  think  for  me. 
As  I  look  at  it  now,  it  seems  scandalous  to  have 
gone  through  my  patrimony  as  I  did.  What  was 
the  use  of  those  twenty  months  at  law  ?  And 
the  course  that  won  my  B.A.  might  have  been 
abridged.  A  year  or  two  in  the  north,  to  shake 
off  my  rusticity  and  get  a  plan  of  study,  and 
I  could  have  done  the  rest  at  home,  and  be  a 
Grafton  still." 

"  You  are  a  Grafton  still,  my  boy.  The  name 
and  the  blood  don't  depend  on  the  soil." 

"  You  can't  understand  it,  Bob :  northerners 
never  do,  at  least  those  who  camp  out  in  cities. 
You  are  a  migratory  race,  we  are  stationary. 
When  your  people  for  six  generations  have  lived 
on  their  own  land,  you  are  identified  with  it, 
rooted  there  —  and  to  be  torn  up  by  the  roots  is 
bad  for  you.  How  much  fun  was  made  of  the 
Virginian  'sacred  soil'!  Yet  that  was  no  mere 
big  talking;  the  words  had  a  real  meaning.  The 
ground  may  be  poor,  worn  out,  dear  at  three 
dollars  an  acre,  but  that's  not  the  point.  Where 
your  fathers  are  buried  and  you  have  played  in 
childhood,  where  your  earliest  associations  are, 
reaching  back  from  the  days  when  you  began 
to  think  and  feel,  as  far  as  your  family  history 
goes  —  that's  sacred  soil,  and  he  who  has  it  should 


Homesick.  1 79 

stand  by  it,  not  let  it  go  to  strangers  as  I  did.  It 
was  no  better  than  sacrilege." 

He  laid  down  his  pipe,  joined  his  hands  behind 
his  head,  and  stared  at  the  ceiling,  as  if  he  saw 
the  old  roof-tree  there.  I  hastened  to  oppose  his 
antediluvian  reflections  with  some  of  the  wisdom 
of  this  world. 

"  My  dear  Dick,  all  that  is  utterly  unpractical, 
and  you  know  it.  We  can't  be  idling  about  the 
rural  parts,  worshipping  old  clapboards  and  grave- 
stones. We've  got  to  be  up  and  doing,  as  the 
poet  says  ;  adding  to  the  resources  of  this  great 
and  glorious  land,  and  making  our  individual  piles. 
What  did  you  use  to  say  yourself  ?  It  matters 
little  where  you  live,  so  it's  to  some  useful 
purpose — to  fulfil  the  end  of  your  being,  and  get 
on  in  life." 

"  You  never  heard  me  say  that  last  part  of  it. 
And  as  far  as  that  goes,  only  a  small  fraction  of 
us  do  get  on  in  life  ;  the  vast  majority  appear  only 
to  get  off.  What's  the  use  of  my  trailing  pain- 
fully over  half  the  continent  to  make  a  failure  ? 
I  could  have  done  that  as  well  at  Grafton  Manor, 
as  those  before  me  did." 

"  Exactly  ;  that's  about  all  you  or  they  could  do 
there.  I  want  you  to  make  a  success,  whether 
here  or  in  the  East.  You  have  the  brains  for  it, 
and  the  grit,  if  you  would  only  make  a  rational 
use  of  them." 

"  We  define  '  rational '  differently,  Bob.     I  can't 


1 80  Homesick. 

join  in  this  everlasting  hymn  to  the  few  who  have 
made  their  million.  How  did  they  do  it?  By 
narrowing  and  sharpening  the  mind  to  a  hatchet 
edge,  indurating  the  conscience,  deadening  the 
heart,  and  sinking  the  soul.  What  did  they  do 
with  it  ?  Left  it  to  their  sons  to  spend  in  gam- 
bling-hells and  places  worse  yet.  It's  better  to 
dwindle  and  snuff  out  as  we  did  on  the  Chesa- 
peake." 

"  We're  not  all  as  bad  as  that,  Dick.  Look  at 
Mr.  De  Grout.  My  father  wasn't  a  millionaire, 
but  he  belonged  to  the  class  you're  condemning. 
You  don't  mean  him." 

"  No,  no,  Bob."  He  grasped  my  hand,  and  we 
sat  a  minute  or  two  in  silence.  This  was  a  tender 
spot,  for  my  parents  had  died  while  I  was  abroad, 
about  the  time  Dick  finished  his  law  at  Hector; 
he  had  been  in  our  house  more  than  once,  and  met 
Christian  treatment  there. 

Presently  we  shook  ourselves :  men  are  not  fond 
of  sentiment,  at  least  not  of  wasting  it  on  one 
another.  "  How  long  have  you  had  these  notions 
about  the  old  place,  Dick  ?  " 

"  They  came  too  late  to  act  on,  of  course.  Only 
since  I've  been  in  the  West,  to  speak  of ;  but  they 
grew  on  me  every  day." 

"  That's  a  pity,  for,  as  you  say,  you  can't  act  on 
them  ;  and  if  you  could,  what  on  earth  would  you 
do  down  there  ?  " 

"  Escape  from  the  crowd  —  from  the  noise  and 


Homesick.  1 8 1 

dust  of  the  struggle  for  existence ;  from  the  pres- 
sure of  base  needs  and  the  contact  of  baser 
motives  ;  from  standards  that  I  can't  accept,  and 
aspirations  that  degrade,  and  a  routine  that  appears 
to  me  as  objectless  as  the  life  I  would  lead  appears 
to  you.  The  Manor,  half-ruined  as  no  doubt  it  is, 
would  be  a  haven  of  refuge,  and  more.  You  can't 
understand  how  wood  and  earth  and  water  can  be 
to  a  man  as  a  mother  or  a  wife.  If  I  still  owned 
the  place,  it  might  even  be  a  motive  to  work,  so 
that  I  could  free  the  acres,  repair  the  house,  and 
ultimately  go  back  there  to  stay." 

"  Well  then,  work,  make  a  fortune,  and  buy 
it  in." 

"  No  sir.  The  tie  is  broken,  don't  you  see  ?  If 
I  could  do  it,  which  I  can't,  I  should  spoil  what 
there  is  of  me  in  the  process,  and  not  be  fit  to  live 
there.  Careless  unthrift  might  be  at  home  at  the 
Manor,  —  it  was,  for  generations,  to  my  sorrow, 
but  never  dishonor,  never  a  spirit  soiled  by  huck- 
stering." 

I  stared  at  him ;  here  was  heredity  with  a  ven- 
geance, the  foolishness  of  the  fathers  reproduced 
in  their  descendant.  I  had  thought  for  years  that 
I  knew  this  man  to  his  foundation  :  could  he,  with 
all  his  northern  culture,  with  his  cool  analytic 
temper,  thus  suddenly  revert  to  ancestral  traits, 
and  blaze  up  at  nothing  like  an  antique  landlocked 
cavalier  ?  If  his  heart  had  been  touched  at  last, 
or  his  honor  —  but  there  was  no  cause  whatever 


1 82  Homesick. 

for  excitement,  and  he  had  never  talked  in  this 
strain  before.  It  was  all  moonshine  about  the 
Manor  ;  at  least  he  had  displayed  no  undue  affec- 
tion for  it  while  at  college,  when  the  recollection 
of  it  lay  much  closer  than  now.  Had  his  reason 
fallen  into  some  depth  lately  opened  in  his  nature  ? 
Had  that  nature  put  forth  new  tendrils  of  sensi- 
bility, which  reached  out  for  something  to  twine 
around,  and  finding  no  nearer  or  more  available 
object,  seized  wildly  on  this  revised  and  glorified 
idea  of  the  Old  Home  ?  That  must  be  the 
secret  of  his  explosion,  I  was  driven  to  conclude. 
So  I  said,  "  Old  man,  that's  very  morbid,  and 
wholly  unjust,  as  you  owned  just  now  :  in  both 
qualities  it's  unlike  you.  You've  been  living  for 
ten  years  on  friendly  terms  with  hucksters  —  me, 
for  instance  ;  why  should  you  fly  at  our  humble 
pursuits  like  this  ?  " 

The  volcano  appeared  to  have  been  exhausted 
by  its  solitary  outburst,  and  had  become  a  peace- 
able mountain  again.  I  might  quote  that  text 
about  a  mild  answer  disarming  wrath,  but  there 
was  no  wrath  to  be  disarmed  in  this  case,  unless 
against  himself  or  some  less  tangible  adversary, 
such  as  Things  in  General. 

He  smiled.  "  True  as  Tupper,  Bob,  and  I 
meant  no  reflection  on  you  or  anybody  ;  only  you 
run  me  pretty  hard,  and  the  worst  of  it  is,  there's 
some  sense  in  what  you  say.  My  position  is  quite 
indefensible,  no  doubt,  in  your  eyes,  and  not  much 


Homesick.  183 

to  brag  of  in  my  own  ;  such  as  it  is,  I'll  try  to 
explain  it.  The  bump  of  locality  used  to  figure 
on  all  phrenological  charts.  It's  a  poor  word,  but 
it  indicates  a  real  part  or  passion  of  our  nature  ; 
see  The  Old  Oaken  Bucket,  Gray's  Ode  on  Eton, 
and  so  forth.  You  can't  form  these  attachments 
except  in  the  country.  Who  cares  for  a  city 
house  or  streets  ?  They  serve  only  mechanical 
uses ;  no  hallowed  associations  cluster  round  them. 
And  the  basis  for  the  feeling  is  laid  in  very  early 
life ;  beyond  that,  it's  mainly  retrospective.  The 
boy  feels  it  after  he  has  left  home ;  while  he  was 
there,  being  there  seemed  a  matter  of  course.  It 
may  make  a  poor  showing  on  cold  analysis ;  but  it's 
something  powerful  and  precious.  O  yes,  distance 
lends  enchantment  ;  it's  in  the  region  of  imagina- 
tion and  sentiment,  scorned  of  the  practical.  But 
these  more  ethereal  faculties  belong  to  our  finer 
part ;  in  this  gross  and  shifting  American  life 
they  are  being  blunted  and  lost.  No  use  for 
them  ?  There  you're  mistaken.  You  see,  a  man 
needs  ties  and  an  anchorage.  Most  of  you  have 
these  supplied  somehow  by  nature  for  a  while,  and 
when  you  are  older,  you  find  them  in  your  busi- 
ness and  domestic  relations.  Found  your  own 
family,  make  your  own  fortune,  build  your  own 
house ;  that's  the  modern  idea.  It's  not  mine ; 
my  roots  go  too  far  into  the  past.  A  house  you 
build  for  yourself  is  merely  for  the  body,  good  to 
eat  and  sleep  in ;  the  soul  takes  no  shelter  there. 


1 84  Homesick. 

I  ought  to  have  lived  as  my  father  did,  a  pastoral 
recluse ;  it's  all  I'm  fit  for.  Ask  Jandyke,  and  he'll 
tell  you  that  I  make  no  progress,  and  never  will. 
Whether  it  be  law,  or  teaching,  or  writing,  I 
bear  my  part  in  a  routine  in  which  I  see  no  point 
or  profit,  except  that  it  pays  my  board  bill.  I  can't 
help  questioning  the  value  of  my  own  work,  and 
that  of  most.  What  does  it  all  amount  to  ?  " 

"  Dick,  you  make  it  worse  than  it  is.  We 
thought  a  good  deal  of  you  at  Yale;  the  De 
Grouts,  and  Van  Snoozer,  and  some  others.  Mrs. 
Claybank  told  me  they  were  more  than  satisfied 
with  the  progress  of  those  boys  you  coached  at 
Tackville.  Rustler  said  you  could  do  something 
at  law  if  you  would ;  he  wanted  you  for  a  partner, 
you  know.  And  I  dare  say  some  people  care  for 
what  you  write  now  in  the  Boomerang  —  as  long 
as  you  let  poetry  alone.  You  shoot  the  arrow ; 
you  can't  tell  where  it  hits.  You  sow  the  seed, 
and  then  you  don't  wait  to  see  the  crop,  but  jump 
to  the  conclusion  that  it  will  be  no  good.  If  you 
could  have  more  faith  now,  and  take  an  interest  in 
things  —  " 

"That's  just  what  I  can't  do.  When  I  do  my 
best,  and  it  comes  to  nothing,  am  I  to  lie  about  it, 
and  delude  myself  into  the  notion  that  it's  some- 
thing fine  ?  Is  it  your  fault  if  you're  so  consti- 
tuted that  you  can't  help  seeing  things  as  they 
are,  with  no  halo  about  them  ?  I  didn't  make 
them  so,  nor  ordain  these  limitations  and  incon- 


.Homesick.  185 

gruities  and  hindrances. — I  can  go  on  in  this 
way  as  I  am,  indefinitely,  I  suppose,  and  keep  my 
head  above  water,  and  not  growl  audibly  except 
when  you  come  and  poke  me  up ;  but  as  I  told 
you,  I've  no  anchorage.  I  belonged  to  the  old  ship 
Grafton  Manor :  she  was  supposed  to  be  founder- 
ing, and  I  stupidly  left  her,  and  went  off  alone  in 
a  cockleshell.  So  here  I  am  adrift,  without  chart 
or  compass,  or  any  particular  port  to  make  for. 
That's  the  state  of  the  case,  and  I  don't  see  how 
it's  to  be  mended." 

I  sat  meditating.  "  Dick,  if  I  could  buy  back 
the  Manor — " 

"Then  it  would  be  yours,  and  an  extremely 
poor  investment.  No  gain  by  that,  since  it 
wouldn't  be  mine  and  never  will.  I'm  not  a 
beggar  yet,  old  man.  While  I  have  health,  and  a 
tolerable  conscience,  and  a  fair  sort  of  fourth-rate 
brain  —  good  enough  for  journeyman's  work  of 
the  disregarded  kinds,  though  not  fit,  as  Rustler 
says,  for  taking  contracts  —  I'll  hardly  need  to 
come  on  my  friends.  It's  not  your  funeral,  dear 
boy  :  you're  all  right,  a  man  of  the  time.  I'm 
not,  unluckily ;  but  I  presume  my  case  might  be 
worse." 


CHAPTER     XXIV. 
MR.  JANDYKE'S  VIEWS. 

THE  next  day  I  privately  interviewed  Mr. 
Jandyke,  and  found  him  a  very  fair  man  for  an 
editor,  and  quite  sufficiently  frank.  He  knew  who 
I  was,  and  naturally  said  things  to  me  he  would 
not  to  a  subordinate.  "  I  have  no  fault  to  find 
with  Mr.  Grafton,"  he  remarked,  with  dignity ; 
"  not  the  slightest.  He  has  done  the  work  for 
which  I  engaged  him,  and  most  creditably.  His 
legal  reports  are  clear  and  accurate,  and  have 
in  several  cases  won  recognition  in  high  quarters. 
He  might  return  to  practice  with  fair  prospects, 
if  —  if  he  cared  for  it  ;  but  he  does  not,  as  you 
must  be  aware.  Literature  seems  more  to  his 
taste  ;  his  criticisms  are  far  beyond  anything  ever 
before  attempted  in  Miletus.  In  this  respect  he 
has  entirely  met  my  requirements,  and  even  given 
tone  to  the  paper,  I  may  say.  There  has  been  no 
such  chance  as  I  thought  there  might  be  to  chip 
into  our  school  management ;  but  his  educational 
views  are  sound  and  progressive,  and  forcibly  put 


Mr.  Jandykes    Views.  187 

on  occasion.  In  fact,  from  the  vigor  with  which 
they  were  expressed  at  that  examination — I'm 
leaking  now,  but  I  see  you  know  all  about  it  —  and 
from  the  way  he  stood  up  for  his  own  notions 
against  Grinder,  I  was  perhaps  led  to  form 
expectations  which  have  not  been  realized.  He 
is  not  so  combative  as  I  supposed ;  his  zeal 
appears  to  be  for  theories,  not  for  interests. 
Let  him  alone,  and  he's  meek  as  Moses.  Not 
that  I  complain  :  any  disappointment  I  may  have 
felt  was  my  private  affair,  not  affecting  the 
contract.  He  has  kept  that  to  the  letter,  and 
blamelessly;  still — you  know  how  things  are, 
Mr.  T.  There's  always  something  beyond  the 
contract  expected  of  a  man ;  and  that's  where 
Grafton  falls  short.  I  don't  mean  anything  you 
can  put  your  finger  on  :  he's  faithful  and  reliable, 
and  wholly  free  from  the  loose  habits  which 
sometimes  discredit  the  profession  in  its  younger 
members.  He  never  neglects  his  work  —  but  his 
heart  doesn't  seem  to  be  in  it.  He  has  plenty  of 
mental  margin,  I  think,  but  he  keeps  it  to  himself ; 
we  don't  get  the  benefit  of  it.  I'm  sorry,  for 
he's  the  loser  in  the  end,  necessarily,  and  I  like 
him.  Some  men,  with  such  an  opening  as  this, 
would  have  forged  ahead  —  made  themselves 
indispensable  to  the  paper  in  other  ways,  or  found 
outside  channels  of  usefulness.  There's  plenty 
of  room  in  Miletus  for  those  who  push  ;  but  that's 
not  Grafton,  you  know.  He  has  made  very  few 


1 88  Mr.  Jandykes   Views. 

acquaintances  beyond  the  office ;  seems  content 
with  his  own  company  —  and  when  a  man  feels 
that  way,  nobody  wants  to  intrude,  unless  there's 
something  to  be  made  off  of  him.  With  all  his 
quietness,  there's  a  sort  of  lordly  air  about  him, 
as  if  he  hadn't  been  born  to  this  sort  of  thing. 
Came  of  old  stock,  did  he,  and  raised  on  a  planta- 
tion ?  Well,  that  accounts  for  it  ;  rather  hampers 
him,  too.  A  most  estimable  gentleman,  sir  ;  gives 
you  the  idea  that  he  ought  to  be  rich,  if  he  isn't. 
I've  felt  that  his  present  post  wasn't  adequate ; 
with  his  talents  and  attainments,  he  should 
command  something  better  —  but  it's  not  so  easy 
to  see  exactly  where,  unless  in  a  country  college, 
or  some  good  quiet  library.  I  think  he'd  do  better 
East ;  they  take  more  stock  in  ancestry  and  man- 
ners there.  Here  in  the  West,  sir,  we  all  have  to 
come  to  bed  rock,  and  keep  wide  awake  and  stirring. 
To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  have  some  thoughts  of 
selling  out  and  going  to  Chicago ;  that's  the 
place  for  a  live  man,  sir.  I  should  probably  have 
no  use  for  Grafton  there,  and  my  successor  might 
not  appreciate  his  services  here  as  I  do ;  few 
would,  in  fact.  I've  not  mentioned  it  to  him,  for 
nothing  is  settled  yet.  I'd  be  sorry  to  lose  him 
while  I  run  the  Boomerang,  but  don't  wish  to  stand 
in  his  light,  in  view  of  these  possibilities,  if  any- 
thing else  offers ;  and  he  ought  to  be  East,  as  I 
said.  His  experience  here  will  be  money  in  his 
pocket,  if  he  likes  to  go  on  with  this  kind  of 


Mr.  Jandykes    Views.  189 

work  ;  and  I'll  be  glad  to  certify  to  his  ability  and 
character  as  shown  under  me." 

An  idea  struck  me.  "  If  you  wouldn't  mind 
writing  a  line  now,  Mr.  Jandyke,  to  say  what  he's 
done  here  and  how  he  did  it,  I  may  be  able  to  use 
it  for  him."  The  editor  graciously  complied,  and 
I  went  home  with  the  paper  in  my  pocket. 


BOOK    THIRD. 


THE   OAKLANDS   EPISODE. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

BACK    TO    GOTHAM. 

THERE  is  plenty  of  literary  work  to  be  done  in 
New  York,  from  pennyalining  up.  True,  more 
than  a  sufficient  number  of  people  are  always 
ready  to  do  it,  and  additional  thousands  to  come 
in  and  try ;  but  still  there  should  be  room  for  a 
young  fellow  with  a  facile  pen,  a  modicum  of 
experience,  economic  habits,  and  no  incumbrances. 
A  three-story  brain  and  esoteric  views  may  be 
dubious  advantages  to  such  a  one,  or  even  handi- 
caps in  beginning  the  race,  and  I  knew  that  Dick 
would  be  imbecile  to  make  his  way  in  a  strange 
city  —  Chicago  or  St.  Louis  would  be  vastly  worse 
for  him  than  Tackville ;  but  with  some  sort  of 
position  secured,  and  a  few  friends  to  invite  him 
to  dinner  and  look  after  him  in  case  of  accidents, 
I  thought  he  might  in  time  become  a  moderately 
useful  member  of  society.  So  I  sought  some 
acquaintances  who  were  familiar  with  the  trade 
that  depends  on  manufactures  of  ink  and  paper, 
showed  them  Mr.  Jandyke's  testimonial,  and  pre- 


194  Back  to  Gotham, 

vailed  on  them  to  bestir  themselves  on  Grafton's 
behalf.  Not  to  burden  my  page  with  details 
which  he  who  benefited  by  them  never  deigned 
to  inquire  into,  the  end  was  that  inducements 
were  offered  —  that  is  the  polite  way  of  putting 
it,  though  his  new  employers  thought  such  amen- 
ities unnecessary  —  which  brought  the  wanderer 
back  to  the  Atlantic  coast  in  early  summer. 

He  appeared  glad  of  the  change.  "This  is 
your  doing,  I  suppose,"  he  said.  "  I've  submitted 
to  your  guidance  at  last,  you  see." 

"  I  hope  it  hasn't  involved  too  great  a  sacrifice. 
Was  it  hard  to  tear  yourself  away  from  the  free 
and  boundless  West  ?  You  think  you  wont  pine 
for  the  prairies  ? " 

"  Not  I.  You  know  why  I  went  there,  and  why 
I  stayed  so  long;  it  has  been  merely  a  five-years' 
camping  out.  There  may  be  more  for  me  to  do 
here ;  but  I  don't  love  big  cities,  aud  it  seems 
absurd  for  me  to  live  in  Gotham.  Why,  my  room- 
rent  will  cost  four  dollars  a  week  more  than  it  did 
in  Miletus." 

"  What  if  it  does  ?  You  can  earn  an  extra  two 
hundred  a  year.  It's  rather  funny  for  you  to 
be  grudging  small  outlays,  Dick." 

"  It's  rather  necessary  for  me  to  live  within  my 
small  income ;  I  wish  my  father  had  thought  so. 
Expenses  will  mount  up,  I'm  afraid,  meals  and 
all." 

"  You'll   soon  learn  the  ropes ;   lots  of  fellows 


Back  to  Gotham.  195 

can  show  you.  We  expect  you  to  dinner  Sundays, 
and  three  times  a  week  at  least.  The  De  Grouts 
want  you,  too." 

"  O  no,  Bob ;  the  less  of  that  the  better.  You'll 
not  see  me  often,  for  I'll  have  to  work  hard  now. 
The  difference  is  as  great  as  it  was  six  years  ago ; 
greater,  because  I  have  nothing  to  show,  and  then 
there  was  a  possibility  I  might.  I  don't  mind  you, 
but  I  don't  want  to  be  mixed  up  with  others." 

"  Do  you  propose  to  be  a  hermit-crab,  here  in 
the  great  heart  of  the  metropolis,  amid  the  teem- 
ing millions?  That's  not  the  way  to  do  it.  If 
you're  going  to  write,  you've  got  to  gather  mate- 
rials, and  keep  your  eyes  open  ;  to  mix  with  soci- 
ety, continue  your  observations,  and  see  what's 
going  on.  You  can't  stay  in  a  corner  by  your- 
self." 

"  I  shall  meet  men  like  myself,  no  doubt,  who 
are  at  the  same  kind  of  work  ;  they  can  tell  me 
most.  For  the  other  sort,  it  wont  do  ;  you  know 
my  way  is  best  —  for  me." 

The  shrinking  pride  of  a  reduced  gentleman  — 
whether  the  reduction  was  practised  on  his  own 
person  or  those  of  his  progenitors  —  is  not  exactly 
an  object  for  contempt,  misplaced  and  unremu- 
nerative  as  it  may  be.  I  have  known  a  poor  stu- 
dent to  decline  a  supper  like  Chatterton  in  the 
play,  though  his  would-be  helpers  had  contrived 
their  best  to  coat  the  pill.  Perhaps  he  was  right : 
he  had  his  soul  to  save,  his  self-respect  to  keep 


196  Back  to  Gotham. 

alive  under  pressing  difficulties,  in  his  own  way. 
That  was  more  important  than  the  body,  and  he 
was  the  only  judge  of  how  to  do  it.  Probably  what 
stood  in  place  of  conscience  told  him  it  was  better 
to  go  hungry  than  to  receive  what  was  at  bottom 
charity,  however  delicately  offered.  So  it  was 
with  Grafton,  except  that  he  had  thus  far  been  in 
no  very  near  danger  of  literal  starvation,  and  had 
progressed  far  enough  mentally  to  accept  any 
kindness  that  came  in  the  shape  of  work  —  if  he 
did  not  see  your  hand  in  it  too  plainly. 

I  noted  with  regret  that  he  had  learned  no  fur- 
ther wisdom  ;  but  he  did  not  succeed  in  wholly 
evading  the  De  Grouts.  They  were  curious 
people,  and  even  their  high  position  did  not  shield 
them  from  the  reproach  of  eccentricity.  Genera- 
tions of  increasing  wealth  had  not  taught  them 
to  measure  men  only  or  chiefly  by  the  dollar 
standard.  The  mother  cherished  intimacies  with 
several  persons  who  were  wholly  out  of  society ; 
and  the  daughter,  with  the  parental  approval  and 
uncalled-for  curtness,  had  refused  one  of  the  great- 
est matches  in  New  York,  because  of  certain  tales 
which  I  need  not  here  repeat.  For  the  cardinal 
virtues  and  for  benefits  once  conferred  they  had 
an  equal  and  antique  regard ;  and  according  to 
them  my  luckless  friend  had  in  his  uncalculating 
and  aimless  way  been  a  benefactor.  I  had  been 
careful  to  warn  them  of  Dick's  expected  advent, 
and  the  son  Clinton,  now  a  correct  junior  partner, 


Back  to  Gotham.  197 

caught  him  at  my  house  before  he  had  been 
twenty-four  hours  in  town.  From  what  pitfalls 
and  gaping  jaws  this  youth  had  been  rescued  long 
before  I  never  precisely  heard;  but  he  met  his 
alleged  rescuer,  on  his  own  account  with  that 
demonstrative  regard  for  which  college  fellowship 
gives  excuse  in  after  years  (on  the  infrequent  occa- 
sions when  it  is  wanted),  and  with  more  than  cor- 
diality on  that  of  the  family.  They  were  at  their 
country  place  on  the  Hudson,  he  explained,  and 
there  desired  Dick  to  join  them. 

"  In  fact,  you're  to  go  up  with  me  this  after- 
noon ;  I'm  sent  for  that  express  purpose,  and  you 
can't  get  out  of  it.  The  governor  doesn't  like  to 
be  crossed,  as  I  know  by  sad  experience  in  the 
past :  I  never  try  it  now,  and  you'd  better  not. 
You're  an  old  friend  whom  we've  not  seen  for  an 
age ;  they  want  you  at  once,  for  a  week  at  least. 
O,  you  can  begin  business  when  you  come  back  ; 
take  a  little  pure  air  first.  You  used  to  be  a 
rare  hand  to  pull  a  fellow  out  of  a  hole ;  don't 
push  me  into  one  now.  I'll  get  a  wigging  if  I 
don't  bring  you." 

Grafton  hemmed  and  hawed,  but  could  not 
escape  without  ungraciousness.  He  had  arrived 
ahead  of  time,  and  was  not  to  report  for  duty  till 
the  following  week :  his  only  real  reason  for 
eluding  this  urgent  friendship,  as  too  embarras- 
singly advantageous,  scarcely  admitted  of  open 
statement,  So  he  compromised  on  the  next  day, 


198  Back  to  Gotham. 

which  was  an  unlucky  Friday,  and  committed 
himself  to  his  old  pupil's  care  with  many  mis- 
givings, intending  to  return  early  Monday  morn- 
ing. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

IN    THE    GLEN. 

HE  stayed  longer  than  he  had  meant  to,  de- 
tained by  circumstances  not  under  his  control. 
The  most  tame  and  decorous  natures  probably 
hide  a  lurking  love  for  the  unusual,  the  romantic, 
and  more  unheroic  men  than  Dick  have  been 
thrust  into  a  hero's  part.  He  had  said  to  me, 
neither  in  boasting  nor  lamentation,  but  I  thought 
with  a  half  conscious  tone  of  regret,  that  no 
adventures  ever  fell  to  his  lot.  Fate  now  deter- 
mined to  make  amends  for  this  neglect,  in  a  way 
that  should  mingle  sweet  with  bitter.  Going  no 
further  than  it  did  at  the  moment,  most  men  of 
Grafton's  age  and  condition  would  willingly  have 
had  this  episode  for  their  own,  and  seen  it  length- 
ened by  an  appropriate  sequel. 

It  was  not  my  privilege  to  partake  of  the  fatted 
calf  spread  for  the  prodigal  at  Oaklands,  so  I  will 
not  pretend  to  tell  you  what  terms  of  endearment 
the  host  and  hostess  lavished  upon  him,  nor  how 
many  wines  were  on  the  table.  They  were  tem- 


2OO  /;/  the  Glen. 

perate  people,  and  I  judge  that  Clinton  under  his 
father's  eye  assuaged  thirst  in  moderation.  But 
for  what  happened  the  next  day  I  do  not  depend 
on  the  newspapers,  which  gave  but  garbled  ac- 
counts. A  party  was  made  up  to  explore  a  glen 
some  miles  from  the  house,  and  Miss  Edith  was 
committed  to  Dick's  care.  I  am  sure  he  did  not 
seek  the  honor,  for  he  never  had  any  sense  about 
such  matters  ;  he  would  rather  talk  to  an  old  lady 
or  to  some  destitute  wallflower  than  to  an  attrac- 
tive girl,  especially  if  she  had  five  or  six  figures 
to  her  credit.  But  this  time  it  was  all  arranged, 
and  he  could  not  help  himself. 

He  might  have  felt  safe  enough  with  her,  for 
she  was  twenty-three  now,  and  as  stately  as  her 
mother;  but  then  she  was  very  handsome,  with 
a  classic  profile  and  an  exquisitely  turned  neck, 
and  eyes  that  could  go  through  you  on  occasion 
and  make  you  feel  queer  and  disagreeable.  I 
never  saw  them  perform  this  exercise,  but  it  was 
said  they  operated  thus  upon  Gander  when  he 
proposed  to  her,  and  on  several  men  who  had 
made  unadvised  efforts  to  establish  a  footing. 
"  Dem  it,"  De  Shyster  once  observed  at  the 
club,  "  what  does  she  mean  by  it  ?  I  merely 
remarked  that  her  eyes  were  like  the  stars  of 
heaven  on  a  dark  blue  night,  and  if  a  feller  had 
'em  to  shine  on  his  lonely  path  right  along  it 
would  be  good  for  him,  you  know  ;  and  then  she 
up  and  glared  at  me."  I  do  not  believe  she  glared 


In  the  Glen.  201 

at  Grafton  during  their  ride,  and  he  certainly  gave 
her  no  occasion  for  so  doing.  He  probably  left 
her  to  support  most  of  the  conversation,  and  gave 
his  mind  to  the  horse,  an  animal  with  whose  traits 
he  was  unfamiliar  ;  but  he  managed  to  keep  the 
road,  and  what  occurred  afterwards  was  really  not 
his  fault.  Arrived  at  their  destination,  the  party 
broke  up  into  pairs,  as  is  usual  on  such  expedi- 
tions ;  there  was  a  waterfall  to  see,  and  what 
not. 

At  this  point  it  would  be  the  correct  thing  to 
describe  the  scenery,  which  must  have  gratified 
Dick,  he  had  been  so  long  without  any  to  speak 
of ;  but  most  of  us  know  such  resorts  by  heart, 
and  one  of  them  is  about  like  another.  The  lady 
and  her  reluctant  cavalier  were  going  along  the 
customary  narrow  path  above  the  regulation  prec- 
ipice, when  she,  being  of  a  venturesome  and 
enterprising  turn  and  little  afflicted  with  nerves, 
stepped  to  the  edge  to  look  down.  "  Take  care," 
said  the  prudent  Richard;  "that's  dangerous." 
The  words  were  hardly  out  of  his  mouth  when  a 
stone  gave  way  beneath  her  foot,  and  over  she 
went.  He  made  a  desperate  clutch  at  her  and 
got  his  right  arm  about  her  waist,  but  there  was 
nothing  for  his  left  hand  to  hold  on  by,  not  even 
a  twig  or  a  projecting  rock.  One  shriek  resounded 
through  the  glen,  and  was  followed  by  an  awful 
silence.  Those  who  were  nearest  ran  up  horror- 
stricken,  and  the  boldest  peered  over  the  verge : 


2O2  In  the  Glen, 

the  two  bodies  lay  motionless,  not  at  the  bottom 
of  the  ravine,  but  on* a  little  ledge,  barely  long 
enough  to  receive  them  (indeed  Dick's  feet  hung 
over)  ten  feet  below  the  path.  He  was  under- 
neath, and  she,  as  soon  appeared,  entirely  pro- 
tected from  the  rocks  by  his  subrecumbent  frame : 
he  being  the  heavier  and  keeping  tight  hold,  they 
had  reversed  positions  in  the  air  and  struck  the 
ground  in  that  desirable  though  unbecoming  atti- 
tude. The  distance  was  just  enough  to  swing 
around  in,  and  a  good  jumper  might  have  taken 
the  leap  with  little  risk  ;  but  coming  down  on  his 
back  with  a  hundred  and  thirty  pounds  on  top  of 
him  knocked  the  breath  pretty  well  out  of  this 
unwilling  athlete,  and  he  lay  as  if  dead.  Edith 
had  simply  fainted  from  the  horror  of  the  fall ; 
which,  if  a  lady  must  tumble  over  cliffs,  is  the 
most  rational  thing  she  can  do  after  so  reprehen- 
sible a  first  step. 

It  was  not  easy  to  approach  them,  but  some  of 
the  men  did  it  by  going  well  around  and  climbing 
up  from  the  bed  of  the  stream  on  hands  and 
knees.  When  they  reached  the  shelf,  after  five 
anxious  minutes,  Edith  was  kneeling — there  was 
just  room  for  that  —  with  a  very  white  face  but 
all  her  wits  about  her;  one  hand  was  on  Dick's 
heart,  the  other  behind  his  head.  I  knew  several 
men  who  would  willingly  have  been  in  Grafton's 
place  then,  and  taken  his  chances  of  recovery  and 
of  what  might  come  after. 


In  the  Glen,  203 

"  He's  alive/'  she  said  to  her  brother,  whose 
hat  now  appeared  at  the  level  of  the  ledge,  while 
the  rest  of  him  was  groping  for  a  foothold  on  the 
cliff's  side.  "  Send  for  help  and  for  a  doctor, 
quick." 

"  How  are  you,  Edith  ?  Can  you  walk  ?  We 
must  get  you  out  of  this  first." 

"  No.  I  can  go  where  you  do,  but  I  shall  stay 
here  till  he  is  removed,  of  course." 

Young  De  Grout  found  a  scanty  footing  higher 
up,  raised  his  arms  and  body  to  his  sister's  side, 
and  proceeded  to  fumble  over  the  prostrate  shape. 
"  No  bones  seem  to  be  broken,  but  it's  a  devil  of  a 
place  to  get  him  out  of.  Excuse  me,  Mrs.  Tom- 
kyns,  I  didn't  see  you  were  there."  The  female 
contingent  of  the  party,  fortunately  not  numerous, 
was  now  on  the  path  above,  whence  ejaculations 
of  sympathy  and  awe  descended.  "  You'd  better 
go  back,  ladies ;  we'll  have  to  haul  him  up  just 
where  you  are.  Thanks,  no,  we  don't  need  you 
on  this  spot  ;  it's  not  well  adapted  for  gatherings, 
and  you  couldn't  very  conveniently  get  here,  nor  up 
again.  Lookout  there,  Smithers"  —  to  a  gentle- 
man who  stumbled  half-way  down,  and  dislodged 
a  quantity  of  shale,  which  went  clattering  into  the 
brook :  "  we  don't  want  any  more  accidents  just 
now.  Call  the  darkies,  please,  and  send  for  rein- 
forcements. Hi,  Cicero"  —  as  the  coachman's 
staring  face  was  seen  above  —  "  run  to  the  nearest 
house,  get  all  the  ropes  they  have,  and  a  few  men 


204  In  the  Glen. 

if  you  can.  Send  one  on  a  fast  horse,  or  with 
Polly  and  the  buggy,  for  Dr.  Jakes.  Come  back 
at  once  with  the  ropes  ;  mind,  now.  Anything 
else,  sis  ? " 

It  may  have  been  early  training,  inherited  capa- 
bility, or  both,  but  those  two  young  people  ordered 
all  that  was  done,  while  others,  who  had  but  a 
general  human  interest  in  the  matter,  pottered 
about,  offered  impossible  advice,  and  were  of  no 
use  at  all.  After  a  woful  half-hour,  Dick  opened 
his  eyes  with  a  groan,  which  he  cut  short  on 
beholding  the  ministering  spirit  by  his  side.  She 
had  been  pouring  brandy  down  his  throat  and 
doing  what  else  the  case  admitted  :  it  was  not  a 
good  spot  to  get  supplies  to,  but  her  brother  had  a 
flask  in  his  pocket. 

"You're  not  hurt?"  Dick  asked,  faintly. 
"Then  it's  all  right."  He  attempted  to  rise,  but 
fell  back. 

"  Easy  now,  old  man,"  said  Clinton.  "  I'm 
doctor,  till  a  better  comes.  You  keep  still,  and  do 
as  you're  bid." 

The  long  and  short  of  it  was  that  this  com- 
mander trussed  him  with  ropes,  and  the  men 
above  pulled  him  up  ;  he  was  able  to  use  his  hands 
enough  to  keep  from  rubbing  against  the  cliff  in 
his  ascent.  Arrived  there,  he  tried  to  walk,  but 
found  it  impossible,  so  they  carried  him  along 
the  path,  which  was  ill  suited  to  such  exercises. 
Seeing  him  safely  started,  Edith  with  her  brother's 


In  the  Glen.  205 

aid  clambered  down  the  ravine,  and  mounted  in 
a  less  impregnable  part  of  it.  As  soon  as  they 
got  home,  Clinton,  fearing  internal  injuries,  tele- 
graphed to  his  father,  to  their  family  physician, 
and  to  me  as  Dick's  next  friend  and  presumed 
executor,  and  we  all  reached  Oakland s  before 
dark.  By  this  time  it  was  tolerably  well  settled 
that  the  patient  was  in  no  great  danger  ;  but 
though  little  blood  was  shed  and  no  bones  frac- 
tured, his  rear  was  one  mass  of  bruises  from  neck 
to  ankles,  and  his  head  and  arms  were  pretty  well 
scratched.  The  eminent  professional  man  from 
New  York  approved  the  local  practitioner's  treat- 
ment (they  always  do,  I  believe),  and  said  the 
invalid  must  be  kept  quiet  and  undisturbed  that 
night ;  everything  depended  upon  that. 


CHAPTER     XXVII. 

EMBARRASSING. 

I  WILL  say  for  Miss  Edith  that  she  appeared 
much  ashamed  and  disgusted  :  her  usual  serenity 
had  vanished  at  finding  herself  responsible  for 
such  a  catastrophe.  "  It  is  a  wretched  business," 
she  said  very  frankly,  "  all  but  Mr.  Grafton's  part 
of  it.  He  saved  my  life,  I  suppose,  or  near  it,  and 
at  the  risk  of  his  own.  But  one  doesn't  like  to  be 
under  such  obligations  to  anybody,  even  to  him. 
I  wish  he  had  let  me  fall  off  by  myself,  if  I  had  to 
do  such  a  stupid  thing.  I  don't  see  what  possessed 
me.  Now  I  presume  you  and  he  and  the  rest  will 
think  I'm  in  the  habit  of  posing  for  tragic  melo- 
drama. It's  perfectly  sickening." 

"Well,"  said  I,  somewhat  dismayed,  for  this 
was  not  the  mental  condition  I  desired  to  see  in 
her,  "  it  wasn't  exactly  his  fault,  you  know :  he 
didn't  mean  to  offend  you.  And  he's  the  last  man 
to  presume  on  a  mere  accident,  or  indeed  ever 
allude  to  it.  I'm  awfully  sorry  you  have  all  this 
bother  with  him  just  now:  I'd  take  him  away 


Embarrassing.  207 

to-night  if  he  was  fit ;  I  know  he'd  rather  go,  and 
not  be  a  burden  here.  You  see  he  just  happened 
to  be  on  hand,  and  he  really  couldn't  help  it." 

"  O,  thank  you,"  she  flashed  back ;  "  I  don't 
need  to  be  reminded  that  it  was  all  my  fault.  Do 
you  think  that  makes  it  any  pleasanter?  We 
insisted  on  the  man's  coming  here,  whether  he 
would  or  not,  and  before  he  had  time  to  turn 
round  and  see  how  New  York  had  changed  during 
his  long  absence  ;  and  then  the  first  thing  I  must 
go  and  pull  him  over  a  precipice.  Fine  hospitality 
this  is ;  much  as  if  Clifton  were  to  ask  you  to 
dinner  and  then  spring  at  you  from  behind  the 
door  with  a  club.  I  wish  he  would  pay  his  own 
debts  :  this  is  what  comes  of  getting  into  scrapes 
at  college." 

I  actually  did  not  know  what  to  say :  I  was 
afraid  to  look  at  her,  lest  I  should  encounter  one 
of  those  demolishing  glances  I  had  heard  of.  But 
she  did  not  go  into  hysterics,  and  presently  she 
calmed  down  a  little.  "  As  you  are  in  Mr.  Graf- 
ton's  confidence,  I  wish  you  would  explain  to  him 
that  I  do  not  make  a  practice  of  falling  off  heights 
and  requiring  gentlemen  to  jump  after  me.  I 
never  did  it  before,  and  can  promise  solemnly  that 
I  never  will  again." 

Dick  on  his  side  was  equally  out  of  humor;  I 
have  rarely  known  him  so  nearly  to  approach 
profane  language.  "This  is  a  beastly  mess,  Bob. 
The  doctor  says  I  can't  get  out  of  here  in  a  week. 


208  Embarrassing. 

Confound  it,  I  wish  I  had  staid  with  you,  as  I 
wanted  to." 

"  Richard,  this  is  an  unhallowed  frame  of  mind. 
Would  you  rather  have  attended  Miss  Edith's 
funeral  than  lie  in  bed  a  day  or  two  ?  You  ought 
to  be  glad  to  bear  a  few  bruises  for  the  sake  of 
saving  such  a  girl  as  that." 

"  That's  all  bosh.  At  least,  I  would  rather  take 
the  hurts  than  let  her  or  any  woman  have  them, 
of  course ;  but  there  wasn't  any  saving.  We  just 
turned  a  somerset  in  the  air  like  two  fools,  and 
came  down  on  a  shelf  of  rock;  a  fine  figure 
we  must  have  cut.  There  was  no  sense  in  it  at 
all." 

"Anyway,  she  says  you  probably  saved  her 
life." 

"  I  didn't.  It  was  only  a  little  way  down,  and 
if  she  had  a  taste  for  going  off  just  there  she 
might  have  done  it  alone  with  hardly  any  risk. 
But  with  my  pulling  her  about,  and  our  joint 
weight,  it  became  more  dangerous.  Yet  I  couldn't 
let  her  go  by  herself,  you  see,  if  only  for  the  name 
of  it.  I  had  no  time  to  think,  and  it  would  have 
done  no  good  if  I'd  had  an  hour,  unless  to  per- 
suade her  to  keep  away  from  the  edge.  The  doc- 
tor calls  it  a  lucky  accident,  but  I  call  it  a  dismally 
ridiculous  one." 

"She's  hugely  vexed  about  that,  and  about 
getting  you  in  the  scrape  ;  wanted  me  to  assure 
you  she  didn't  do  it  on  purpose,  and  isn't  in  the 


Embarrassing.  209 

habit  of  such.  But  others  take  a  different  view ; 
they  think  you  did  a  big  thing,  like  Curtius  and 
Theseus  and  all  those  historical  preservers.  Pre- 
pare to  see  your  gallantry  blazoned  in  the  papers, 
and  to  be  coddled  as  a  wounded  hero." 

This  prospect  increased  his  irritation,  and  he 
was  inveighing  against  his  predicament  and  things 
at  large,  when  the  doctor  came  in  and  looked 
sharply  at  him,  and  then  at  me.  "  Here,  this 
wont  do.  I  thought  you  had  more  sense,  Mr. 
T.  ;  don't  you  see  he's  feverish  ?  No  more  con- 
versation to-night,  Mr.  Grafton ;  take  this  dose, 
and  go  to  sleep."  And  he  bundled  me  out  of  the 
room. 

It  was  not  an  enjoyable  evening,  for  every  one 
was  excited  and  nervous.  Mrs.  De  Grout  had 
been  overcome  by  the  news  of  her  daughter's 
danger  and  deliverance,  and  her  husband  wa,s 
worried  over  Graf  ton's  injuries.  Clinton  and  I 
went  out,  ostensibly  to  look  over  the  stables,  and 
he  said,  "You  want  to  see  where  that  thing  hap- 
pened, don't  you  ?  Well,  we'll  get  up  at  sunrise, 
and  either  ride  or  drive,  as  you  prefer.  I'll  lend 
you  some  old  clothes  and  heavy  boots,  for  it  will 
be  wet,  and  we'll  have  to  climb  around.  I  want 
to  make  some  observations." 

"  All  right.  But  what  do  you  start  so  early 
for?" 

"  So  that  we  can  do  it  on  the  quiet,  and  be  back 
and  dressed  as  usual  before  breakfast.  To-mor- 


2 1  o  Em  barrassing. 

row's  Sunday,  you  know,  and  mother  might 
object." 

I  agreed,  and  we  turned  in  early.  I  had  offered 
to  sit  up  with  Grafton,  but  they  would  not  hear  of 
it ;  said  there  was  a  reliable  manservant  in  the 
next  room  to  watch,  and  the  doctor  within  call. 

I  shuddered  when  I  beheld  the  place  of  the 
catastrophe ;  but  for  that  little  shelf,  they  would 
have  gone  down  sixty  feet,  bumping  over  rocks 
two-thirds  of  the  way.  "  See  this  break  in  the 
edge?"  said  Clinton;  "here's  where  the  ground 
gave  way  under  Edith.  He  stood  where  you  are. 
Now  look  down  —  all  fours  first,  or  we  may  go 
over,  too.  By  Jove,  I  thought  so ! " 

What  he  thought  you  will  soon  learn.  We  had 
brought  pencils  and  paper  and  some  ropes;  we 
surveyed  the  ground,  which  was  adapted  neither 
to  architectural  nor  agricultural  uses,  and  made 
some  measurements,  returning  in  time  to  assist  at 
family  prayers.  Mr.  De  Grout  was  strong  on  the 
doctrine  of  every  man  being  a  priest  in  his  own 
household :  he  alluded  in  affecting  terms  to  the 
events  of  yesterday,  and  I  gathered  from  his  peti- 
tion that  our  patient  was  better,  which  proved  to 
be  the  case.  After  a  while  he  went  to  church, 
but  all  the  others  begged  off.  Thanks  to  repose 
and  arnica,  Dick's  condition  was  so  far  improved 
that  the  doctor  said  he  might  be  taken  down- 
stairs ;  as  soon  as  he  had  seen  this  done,  Galen 
departed  for  his  city  rounds,  enjoining  prudence 


Embarrassing.  Ill 

and  patience.  His  reproof  to  me  the  night  before 
meant  nothing  but  professional  pompousness ; 
they  always  make  the  most  of  their  cases,  except 
when  these  are  serious,  and  then  you  die  before 
they  give  you  notice  to  prepare. 


CHAPTER     XXVIII. 

CLINTON    EXPLAINS. 

WE  arranged  the  invalid  in  state  on  a  lounge, 
and  gathered  round  him.  After  the  requisite 
civilities  had  been  administered,  Clinton  coughed 
to  attract  attention.  "  Ahem.  As  this  is  a  day 
set  apart  from  secular  cares  for  praise,  instruction, 
and  inward  improvement,  it  will  be  well  to  review 
a  recent  occurrence,  that  each  person  present  may 
the  better  comprehend  his  or  her  reasons  for 
thanksgiving  or  penitence,  and  the  relation  in 
which  she  or  he  stands  to  other  members  of  this 
select  circle,  with  the  resulting  duties  of  gratitude, 
respect,  affection,  or  possibly  the  contrary." 

He  paused  impressively ;  his  mother  looked  at 
him  in  surprise,  his  sister  spoke.  "  We  understand 
all  that  well  enough  ;  do  let  Mr.  Grafton  alone." 

"  I  shall  commit  no  such  injustice,"  the  orator 
resumed  ;  "  if  the  country  at  large  neglects  his 
fame,  this  humble  hearthstone  shall  cherish  it. 
You  needn't  stop  me,  mother  ;  I'm  coming  to  the 
point  now.  The  hand  of  Providence  has  brought 


Clinton  Explains.  213 

him  here,  from  far  away  in  the  wild  and  wondrous 
West,  where  his  muscles  have  been  toughened 
and  his  soul  uplifted  to  deeds  of  derring-do.  You 
see,  when  a  young  woman  will  go  about  falling 
over  precipices,  it's  important  to  have  on  hand  a 
big,  strong,  brave  man  who  can  at  least  mitigate 
the  consequences  and  break  the  fall." 

If  Galen  had  stayed,  it  was  not  I  he  would 
have  had  to  rebuke  this  time.  His  patient  was 
very  red,  and  so  wrought  upon  that  he  even 
forgot  to  choose  expressions  suitable  to  the  pre- 
sence of  ladies.  "  Let  up  on  that,  Clint.  I 
can't  thwack  you  as  I  used  to,  and  it's  mean  to 
take  advantage  of  my  helplessness.  Drop  it,  do, 
or  I'll  go  back  to  bed.'" 

"  You  can't.  Father's  out,  and  the  doctor's 
gone,  so  I'm  in  charge.  What  you  want  is  cheer- 
ful and  improving  conversation  :  keep  still,  and 
you'll  get  it." 

Edith  frowned  at  her  brother,  and  then  sighed 
and  appeared  to  resign  herself  to  the  inevitable : 
I  suppose  she  knew  what  he  was  capable  of,  and 
when  he  was  beyond  control.  The  mother  made 
a  feeble  effort.  "  You  must  not  annoy  our  friend, 
Clinton.  And  are  you  sure  what  you  have  to  say 
befits  the  time  ?  " 

"  Positively.  Annoy  him  ?  No  ;  it's  just  the 
tonic  he  needs,  the  gentle  stimulant  to  put  him  on 
his  feet  again.  He  must  get  used  to  the  sound  of 
his  own  praises.  The  illustrated  papers  will  no 


214  Clinton  Explains. 

doubt  send  artists  here  to-morrow,  to  sketch  the 
ravine  and  the  ledge,  and  take  portraits  of  the 
principal  actors.  I  shall  give  them  my  last  photo, 
mother  —  the  one  you  said  was  my  best  ;  they  can 
print  me  from  that.  You'd  better  do  your  hair  up 
to-night,  sister  ;  they  may  come  by  the  early  train. 
Grafton  looks  most  interesting  as  he  is,  but  I'm 
not  sure  we  oughtn't  to  put  a  patch  on  his  manly 
brow,  for  increased  effect.  He  shows  no  traces  of 
his  leap  except  a  poetic  pallor,  which  the  artists 
wont  be  able  to  catch ;  he  differs  from  the  ancient 
warriors  in  this,  that  his  wounds  are  not  in  front." 

There  was  another  pause  ;  Edith  looked  bored, 
Dick  embarrassed,  and  Mrs.  De  Grout  very  grave. 
"  I  think  we  ought  not  to  speak  lightly  of  so 
serious  a  topic,  my  son  ;  least  of  all  you,  for  whom 
Mr.  Grafton  did  so  much,  long  ago.  I  cannot  talk 
of  what  he  has  done  for  us  now.  But  for  him  — " 
Her  voice  broke,  tears  came  into  her  eyes. 

Dick  too  was  much  distressed.  "  My  dear 
madam,  you  exaggerate  enormously  ;  indeed  you 
do.  The  thing  is  not  worth  a  second  thought. 
I've  given  more  trouble  than  I've  done  good  ;  in 
fact,  I  was  rather  in  the  way.  As  I  told  Bob 
here,  last  night,  as  soon  as  I  saw  him,  if  Miss 
Edith  had  been  alone,  she  might  have  escaped 
harm  altogether,  and  merely  had  to  climb  down 
the  rest  of  the  way  ;  and  then  she  wouldn't  have 
been  bothered  with  me.  At  worst  she  would  have 
got  a  few  scratches,  as  I  did." 


Clinton  Explains.  215 

The  sense  of  justice  which  is  so  strong  in  a  few 
women  here  impelled  Edith  to  touch  a  distasteful 
subject.  "  You  forget  what  prevented  my  receiv- 
ing any  injury  at  all.  And  in  supposing  the  other 
case,  you  exaggerate,  whether  mother  did  just 
now  or  not.  If  I  had  fallen  exactly  as  you  did,  I 
should  have  been  hurt,  but  less  than  you  were,  for 
I  would  have  had  no  weight  upon  me."  Her 
mounting  color  belied  the  coldness  of  her  voice, 
but  could  not  check  her  testimony.  I  looked  at 
her  in  silent  admiration.  Most  men  would  have 
envied  that  obtuse  icicle  Dick,  who  merely  turned 
his  head  away. 

Clinton  now  claimed  another  hearing.  "  Sister, 
your  conduct  is  shameless.  After  bringing  all 
this  trouble  upon  us,  and  causing  your  gallant 
rescuer  to  be  plastered  from  head  to  foot  and  laid 
on  his  back,  where  he  never  was  before  since 
infancy  except  in  the  peaceful  hours  assigned  to 
slumber,  you  calmly  split  hairs  over  his  prowess, 
and  would  fix  to  an  ounce  the  weight  of  his 
services.  I  mentioned  penitence  as  one  exercise 
appropriate  to  the  day  ;  that  was  for  your  benefit. 
The  rest  of  us  have  done  nothing  to  be  ashamed 
of,  but  you  ought  to  put  on  sackcloth  and  ashes. 
The  very  least  you  can  do  is  to  register  a  solemn 
vow,  here  in  the  presence  of  the  victim  of  your 
propensity  and  of  this  goodly  company,  not  to  fall 
over  any  more  precipices." 

"  She's  done  that  already,"  I  hastened  to  depose. 


216  Clinton  Explains. 

"  She  promised  me  that,  last  night,  out  of  her  own 
head,  without  any  asking.  So  you  might  be  easy 
with  her  now,  if  she  is  your  sister." 

"  Indeed,"  said  the  mother,  "  I  trust  this  will 
teach  you  a  lesson,  Edith.  And  you  too,  Clinton  ; 
you  are  generally  far  more  reckless  than  she. 
One  cannot  be  too  careful  in  such  places.  My 
dear,  you  might  have  lost  your  precious  life,  and 
destroyed,  too,  that  of  one  to  whom  we  owed  so 
much  before.  Your  father  would  scarcely  have 
forgiven  you,  you  could  never  have  pardoned  your- 
self, if  Mr.  Grafton  had  been  seriously  hurt  in 
saving  you." 

"  My  dear  lady,"  Dick  interposed,  "  enough  and 
far  too  much  has  been  said  about  this  trivial  inci- 
dent. I  thought  I  had  shown  you  that  there  was 
no  saving,  and  no  service  worth  mentioning.  Of 
course  I  should  have  been  glad  to  be  of  some  use, 
but  I  can't  flatter  myself  that  I  was.  If  you're 
going  to  hold  her  responsible  for  the  mishap,  she 
would  very  likely  have  done  better  without  me." 

"  There's  where  you're  out,  young  man,"  said 
Clinton,  dropping  the  ragged  remnant  of  his 
pulpit  tone.  "  Without  you  she  would  have  struck 
the  edge  of  the  shelf  in  passing,  and  gone  clear  to 
the  bottom ;  that's  a  nice  thing  to  think  of,  isn't 
it  ?  Where  she  stood  on  the  path  was  just  above 
the  north  end  of  that  ledge ;  you  were  at  her  left, 
say  two  feet  south.  You  pulled  her  toward  you, 
and  changed  the  direction  of  the  fall  enough  to 


Clinton  Explains.  217 

land  on  the  shelf  instead  of  going  further. 
See?" 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  know  more  about  it  than 
I  do,  since  I  took  part  in  the  performance,  and 
you  weren't  in  sight  at  the  time.  Nobody  was  but 
Mrs.  Tomkyns  and  the  man  with  her,  if  I  remem- 
ber." 

Thus  spoke  the  invalid,  rather  hotly  ;  but  Edith 
looked  pale,  and  nodded,  as  if  to  confirm  at  least 
so  much  of  the  narrative  as  dealt  with  their  rela- 
tive positions.  Her  mother  chimed  in.  "  Yes, 
my  son,  how  can  you  be  so  sure  of  this  ? " 

He  put  a  bold  face  on  it.  "  Only  because  I  was 
there  this  morning  before  you  were  up.  Having 
no  distressed  damsels  and  wounded  heroes  to  haul 
over  the  cliff,  Tim  and  I  took  notes  like  a  couple 
of  surveyors.  If  you  don't  believe  me,  I'll  take  you 
and  Edith  there  to-morrow  ;  but  not  Grafton  —  he's 
had  enough  of  the  place." 

"  So  have  I,"  said  his  sister.  "  I  wonder  that 
you  could  go  there :  I  never  want  to  see  it  again." 

"  Clinton  !  "  broke  in  his  mother  severely  ;  "you 
went  there  on  the  Sabbath  ?  " 

"  It  was  a  work  of  necessity  and  mercy,  mother; 
both  together,  as  you  should  be  the  first  to  per- 
ceive. It  was  necessary  to  understand  just  where 
we  stood,  and  what  we  all  had  to  give  thanks  for; 
and  so  we  undertook  this  investigation,  not  after 
Edith's  pennyweight  method,  nor  in  Grafton's 
way  of  barren  suppositions  —  you  always  were  too 


2i 8  Clinton  Explains. 

much  of  a  theorist,  Dick  ;  it  is  the  one  fault  linked 
to  so  many  virtues  —  but  like  two  experienced  and 
clear-headed  men  of  the  world."  He  bowed  to 
me,  and  to  himself.  "  This  is  the  up  and  down  of 
it :  he  saved  your  daughter,  madam,  and  my  sister 
—  not  that  she  deserved  it ;  and  though  in  so  do- 
ing he  didn't  risk  his  own  life  as  much  as  would 
have  been  the  case  if  he  had  adopted  her  style  and 
place  of  falling  without  revision,  still  that  wasn't 
his  fault,  for  he  hadn't  opportunity  to  examine  the 
ground  as  fully  as  we've  done  since  ;  so  we'll  over- 
look that  blemish.  Our  preserver,  accept  my 
blessing ;  here's  my  hand,  with  my  heart  in  it. 
This  stance  is  now  concluded ;  Tim,  let's  go  out 
and  smoke." 

I  wondered  a  little  at  this  boy's  coolness  in  over- 
riding his  elders,  as  all  of  us  were  except  Edith, 
and  she  but  a  year  his  junior;  and  presently  I 
asked  him,  "  What  did  you  run  them  so  hard  for  ?" 

"  Why,"  said  he,  "  this  kind  of  thing  is  apt  to  be 
stiff  unless  you  give  it  the  right  tone.  Mother 
would  have  slopped  all  over  Dick  if  I'd  let  her,  and 
he  and  sis  both  feel  awkward.  I  don't  wonder  at 
that ;  they  must  have  looked  like  precious  fools, 
tumbling  about  in  each  other's  arms."  He  looked 
over  his  shoulder  to  see  if  the  windows  were 
closed,  and  burst  into  a  peal  of  irreverent  (and,  as 
I  thought,  ill-judged)  laughter.  "  There's  nothing 
like  free  discussion,  in  a  sensible  matter-of-fact 
style,  to  remove  undue  solemnity  and  any  little  em- 


Clinton  Explains.  219 

barrassment  that  may  exist,  and  make  everybody 
feel  easy  and  comfortable  ;  as  you'll  see.  Besides, 
we  all  think  the  world  of  Dick,  only  he's  so  deuc- 
edly  formal  and  offish,  because  we've  got  spondulix 
and  he  hasn't.  Now  this  thing,  with  these  touches 
I've  just  given  it,  ought  to  make  him  feel  like  one 
of  the  family.  That's  what  was  needed,  to  get  rid 
of  all  constraint  and  be  'omelike  and  haffable,  as 
the  Britishers  say.  Only  I  had  to  do  it  while  dad 
was  out,  or  he'd  have  stopped  it.  He  wanted  to 
reach  just  this  point,  to  domesticate  Dick  with  us  ; 
but  bless  you,  he'd  never  accomplish  it  in  his 
Grand  Monarch  style,  nor  let  me  try  mine.  Now 
it'll  be  all  right  :  church  is  a  good  thing,  some- 
times." 

I  had  my  doubts  whether  Clinton's  manage- 
ment was  exactly  the  right  thing,  either  for  his 
sister  or  for  Grafton  ;  but  I  was  on  his  premises, 
and  had  no  right  to  meddle  in  his  domestic  mat- 
ters. His  talents  were  promising,  his  motives 
excellent,  and  youthful  light-heartedness  will  ex- 
cuse much ;  but  I  was  not  sure  it  would  please 
me  to  be  gone  over  in  that  way,  supposing  I  had 
been  practising  acrobatic  feats  in  the  woods  with 
a  young  lady,  and  been  painfully  battered  in  con- 
sequence ;  especially  if  I  were  poor  and  proud 
and  unattached  and  delicate-minded  like  Dick, 
and  she  were  a  beauty  and  an  heiress  and  all 
the  rest  of  it.  In  that  case  I  think  I  would 
have  preferred  not  to  talk  about  the  business 


220  Clinton  Explains. 

at  all  when  the  girl  was  by  (unless  she  insisted 
on  so  doing),  and  certainly  not  to  have  sermons 
preached  upon  it  in  the  manner  of  the  once  cele- 
brated Dow  junior.  All  efforts  toward  the  ascer- 
tainment of  truth  are  laudable,  but  that  easy 
freedom  of  handling,  with  its  occasional  ap- 
proaches to  levity  (as  Mrs.  De  Grout  hinted)  is 
not  suited  to  all  topics,  nor  yet  to  all  tempera- 
ments. The  boy  meant  well,  but  I  question 
whether  he  did  any  good,  even  for  the  moment. 
I  could  not  stay  to  see  how  his  method  worked 
beyond  that,  for  Dick  did  not  need  me,  and  home 
matters  did. 

Clinton  and  I  went  down  Monday  morning, 
and  called  on  the  head  of  the  firm  that  was  to 
employ  Grafton.  He  knew  our  names,  and  re- 
ceived us  blandly  ;  had  seen  the  accident  in  the 
papers,  and  rejoiced  to  know  that  so  gallant  (and 
so  well  befriended)  a  gymnast  had  escaped  serious 
injury  ;  told  a  story  or  two  that  might  be  sup- 
posed to  bear  on  the  case  in  hand  ;  chuckled  and 
ha-haed,  and  appeared  much  pleased  that  one  of 
his  young  men  should  be  staying  at  Oaklands 
and  enjoying  adventures  with  the  millionaire's 
daughter  ;  offered  to  show  us  over  his  establish- 
ment in  person,  and  favored  us  with  several 
circulars  and  prospectuses  ;  assured  us  that  there 
should  be  no  difficulty  about  Dick's  work,  which 
could  be  carried  by  others  as  heretofore  till  he 
was  fit  to  begin  it.  "  Our  business  is  increasing 


Clinton  Explains.  221 

daily,  we  are  crowded  to  the  utmost  of  our  great 
capacity ;  but  in  such  a  case  a  point  may  be 
strained.  Let  him  complete  his  cure  under  such 
—  er  —  happy  auspices,  and  come  to  us  reinvig- 
orated.  Our  firm,  sir,  can  afford  to  be  liberal.  It 
is  not  every  day  that  we  are  privileged  to  contri- 
bute, I  may  say,  the  means  of  preserving  one  of 
the  city's  loveliest  fair  ones,  and  rendering  a  ser- 
vice to  so  honored  a  family  as  that  of  Mr.  De 
Grout.  Ahem  ;  gentlemen,  you  understand  that 
Mr.  Grafton's  stipend  begins  from  to-day,  as  if 
he  had  entered  on  his  duties  as  expected.  No 
thanks  ;  it  is  a  pleasure,  and  such  is  the  char- 
acter of  this  house." 

"  By  Jove,"  said  Clinton  as  we  went  out,  "  I 
believe  the  old  cock  would  like  to  send  the  gov- 
ernor a  bill  'for  services  in  saving  life  of  daugh- 
ter.' " 

"  He  can't,"  the  irreverent  youth  was  reminded, 
"  because  Dick  did  it  on  Saturday,  when  he  was 
his  own  man  :  he  belongs  to  Lybert  &  Co.  only 
from  this  morning." 

"  That's  so,  and  it's  lucky.  But  the  firm  mean 
to  take  credit  for  the  rescue  anyway." 

"  Well,  it  turns  out  all  right  for  Dick ;  this 
thing  happening  at  your  place  has  given  him  a 
big  send-off.  They  think  he  must  be  quite  a  little 
man  because  he's  a  friend  of  yours.  Perhaps 
they'll  raise  his  wages."  But  Mr.  Lybert's  appre- 
ciation stopped  short  of  that  point. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

IT    WOULD    NOT    DO. 

NOT  to  trifle  with  the  reader,  I  will  say  at  once 
that  this  hopeful  beginning  of  a  romance  came  to 
nothing  at  all.  It  was  disappointing ;  from  the 
viewpoint  of  poetical  justice  and  spheric  melody 
it  might  be  called  odious,  and  even  low ;  but  that 
is  the  way  things  go  in  real  life,  especially  with 
such  a  fellow  as  Grafton.  He  was  made  much  of 
at  Oaklands  for  a  week,  and  then  returned  to  the 
city,  somewhat  stiff  in  the  joints  and  slow  in  his 
motions,  and  began  his  new  work.  If  he  had 
been  anything  of  a  business  man,  with  half  an  eye 
to  the  main  chance,  he  might  to-day  be  a  partner 
in  a  great  firm  (I  do  not  mean  of  publishers),  and 
possibly  in  more  senses  than  one.  But  the  truth 
is,  his  friends  found  they  could  do  nothing  with 
him  or  for  him.  Clinton  used  to  drag  him  up  the 
Hudson  on  Saturdays  through  that  summer,  and 
after  the  family  came  back  in  the  fall  they  deluged 
him  with  invitations  to  dinner ;  but  he  would  go 
there  only  when  civility  absolutely  required  it,  and 


It  would  not  do.  223 

I  presume  they  at  last  reluctantly  concluded  that 
friendship  was  deformed,  being  all  on  one  side. 

A  year  later  I  took  him  to  task  for  this  con- 
duct. "Dick,  do  you  think  you've  treated  the  De 
Grouts  well  ? " 

"  Perhaps  not.  But  if  so,  I  couldn't  help  it,  as 
you  know  perfectly." 

"  What  have  you  got  against  them  ?  Don't  you 
like  their  style  ?  " 

"  Eminently ;  to  me  they  were  kindness  per- 
sonified. They  are  just  the  sort  of  people  I  would 
choose  for  my  closest  friends  —  if  I  could  meet 
them  on  equal  terms." 

"  Why  can't  you  meet  them  on  equal  terms  ? 
Because  they  pay  more  taxes  than  you  do  ?" 

"  Because  I  don't  see  two  dollars  where  they 
turn  over  a  thousand,  if  you  want  the  coarse  fact. 
We're  not  in  Arcadia,  and  that  makes  a  very  real 
difference." 

"But  if  they  can  overlook  that,  you  might." 

"  It's  just  the  other  way.  If  positions  were 
reversed,  I  could  afford  to  ignore  it,  and  would  be 
glad  to ;  as  it  is,  they  can,  but  I  can't." 

"You  make  too  much  account  of  money  —  far 
more  than  they  do.  All  this  quixotry  is  merely 
inverted  wealth-worship." 

"  Let  it  stay  inverted  then,  so  honor  keeps  on 
top." 

He  was  keen  enough  when  put  on  the  defensive 
about  a  definite  matter ;  but  his  tone  was  not  so 


224  It  would  not  do. 

repellent  as  of  old.  He  had  seen  a  little  more 
(though  not  much)  of  the  world  by  this  time,  and 
was  doing  tolerably  well  for  him,  that  is,  making 
expenses  and  a  few  dollars  over ;  and  I  suppose 
that  kept  his  spirits  up.  Finding  him  thus  amen- 
able, I  ventured  a  step  further.  "I'd  like  to  ask 
you  another  question,  Dick,  if  you  don't  mind." 

"  Ask  as  many  as  you  like,  old  man.  From  you 
I  have  no  guilty  secrets." 

"Do  you  think  you  behaved  exactly  right  to 
Miss  Edith  ? " 

He  stared  at  me.     "  What  do  you  mean  now  ?  " 
"Well,  there  were  rumors,  you  know." 
"I  didn't  start  them,  nor  did  she,  I  judge.     The 
best  way  to  stop  them  was  to  keep  away  from 
there." 

"Did  it  never  seem  to  you  that  — that  she —  " 
"  No,  it  didn't.     She's  not  that  kind  of  girl,  and 
I  trust  I'm    not   the   kind  of  cad  to  think  such 
things.     I  don't  wonder  you're  ashamed  to  put  it 
into  words." 

"Still,  you  seem  to  know  pretty  well  what  I 
mean." 

He  flushed :  it  was  an  ingenuous  habit  he 
retained  long  past  the  proper  age  for  it.  But  he 
parried  the  stroke  neatly.  "I  know  what  you 
mean,  because  I  know  you.  You  like  to  go  over 
and  through  and  around  and  beneath  and  behind 
a  question,  and  to  settle  how  it  might  have  been 
under  totally  different  conditions  ;  whereas  I  am 


//  would  not  do.  225 

content  to  determine  on  the  apparent  facts.  You 
are  forever  overworking  your  brain  to  conjure  up 
not  merely  what  might  or  should  be,  but  the  im- 
possible and  absurd.  In  this  case  it's  indelicate, 
improper  —  a  — a  sort  of  sacrilege."  (Oho,  I  said 
to  myself;  so  he  was  hit  hard  after  all.)  "Why 
should  she  have  thought  twice  of  me  ?  She's 
seen  lots  of  fellows  in  her  own  walk  of  life  just 
as  good  as  I,  and  possibly  much  better." 

"  No  doubt.  But  she  might  not  think  so ; 
women  are  so  peculiar.  It  was  worth  inquiring 
into.  Suppose,  now,  she  had  cared  for  you?" 

"Why  then,  she'd  soon  have  gotten  bravely 
over  it.  You  ought  to  have  more  respect  for  her 
than  to  suppose  such  things,  Bob." 

"I  would  have  had  enough  respect  for  her  to 
ask  if  she  had  any  further  use  for  me,  if  I'd  been 
in  your  place,  before  I  sheered  off.  You  are  the 
most  insensate  animal,  Richard." 

"  I  should  be  if  I  had  done  what  you  suggest. 
A  thousand  reasons  forbade  it." 

"The  thousand  black  cats,  as  usual,  resolve 
themselves  into  ours  and  the  neighbor's.  You 
were  not  rich,  and  you  had  saved  her  life ;  that's 
about  all." 

"  And  isn't  that  enough  ?  I  don't  care  to  spend 
strength  in  demonstrating  an  axiom.  The  thing 
was  impossible." 

"Dick,  you're  an  anachronism.  You  would 
have  made  a  good  hermit  in  the  Middle  Ages. 


226  It  would  not  do. 

Most  men  have  in  them  certain  chords  which 
respond  when  properly  struck  ;  but  you  were  never 
guilty  of  any  such  weakness,  were  you  ?  Miss 
Edith  is  called  a  very  charming  girl,  and  you 
were  brought  rather  closely  in  contact  with  her 
—  very  closely,  in  fact.  I  thought  at  one  time 
that  you  were  a  little  —  just  a  little  —  touched  in 
that  quarter ;  but  evidently  I  was  mistaken." 

I  knew  this  would  draw  him  out,  for  he  could 
not  bear  a  misstatement  of  facts.  Concealment  he 
would  submit  to  and  even  practice  in  a  private  and 
delicate  matter,  so  long  as  it  involved  no  falsehood ; 
but  (when  no  ladies  were  by)  if  you  said,  '  This 
thing  is  white,'  he  would  speak  up  and  say,  '  No,  it 
is  black,'  even  if  it  cost  him  a  dinner  or  his  pros- 
pects in  life. 

He  emitted  several  rings  of  smoke,  watched 
them  ascend  to  the  ceiling,  and  drummed  a  mar- 
tial air  with  his  fingers  on  the  table.  Then  he 
remarked  slowly  and  judicially,  "I'm  not  fond  of 
unnecessary  lying,  Bob,  and  it's  not  clear  that  any 
is  necessary  here,  seeing  it's  only  you.  The  thing 
is  not  worth  talking  about,  but  it's  all  over  now, 
and  since  you  are  so  curious,  I  may  admit  that  I'm 
not  quite  so  cold-blooded  as  you  pretend  to  think. 
That  young  lady  is  all  you  say,  and  I  know  it  bet- 
ter than  you,  or  perhaps  than  most.  But  to  be 
conscious  of  such  a  feeling  in  the  germ  was  of 
course  to  shut  down  on  it,  since  no  good  could 
come  of  it." 


It  would  not  do.  227 

"  Ah,  indeed.  And  if  somebody  had  left  you  a 
million  or  so  about  that  time,  what  then  ?  " 

"In  that  case  I  should  probably  have — been 
inclined  to  cultivate  the  acquaintance.  But  as 
things  were  with  me,  it  wouldn't  do  —  it  wouldn't 
do  at  all." 

"  I  can't  see  why,  if  she  and  her  family  were 
willing.  They  thought  a  heap  of  you,  and  en- 
couraged you  in  every  way ;  and  then  there  was 
your  great-grandmother,  or  her  aunt's  first  hus- 
band's sister,  whichever  it  was,  that  intermarried 
with  them  before.  Besides,  you  had  done  them  a 
great  service  —  " 

"  Or  they  thought  I  had,  which  was  the  same 
thing  so  far.  Well,  would  you  have  had  me  go  up 
and  say,  '  Here,  I  want  to  be  paid  for  that :  give 
me  your  daughter,  and  a  furnished  house  on  the 
avenue,  and  so  much  a  year  to  keep  it  with  '  ?  If 
you  can  imagine  a  man  acting  like  that,  I  can't." 

"  He  needn't  use  those  expressions,  nor  be  so 
peremptory.  Take  a  part  you  can  dress  —  say 
that  of  Lady  Geraldine's  lover.  You  stand  around 
awhile,  and  look  poetic  and  haughty  and  yet  tender; 
then  some  day  when  it  comes  handy  you  say,  '  List, 
fairest,  to  my  doleful  moan  ;  This  bosom  beats  for 
thee  alone' — that  sort  of  thing.  Tell  her  you 
haven't  the  least  idea  she'd  ever  care  for  you,  and 
wouldn't  dream  of  asking  it,  but  you  thought  she 
ought  to  know  that  your  heart  lies  bleeding  at  her 
feet :  that  when  you  came  near  dying  for  her  on 


228  //  would  not  do. 

those  rocks,  that  was  nothing  at  all,  you'd  be  glad 
to  do  it  over  any  number  of  times  if  it  would  do 
her  any  good  —  you  don't  take  any  stock  in  that 
tumble,  but  only  mention  it  as  a  sample  of  your 
capacity :  that  in  the  highly  improbable  event  of 
her  responding  in  kind  and  meaning  business,  you 
would  have  to  make  a  much  greater  sacrifice, 
seeing  you  value  your  pride  more  than  life  and 
happiness ;  but  that,  while  a  purely  platonic  ar- 
rangement would  meet  your  views  best,  you 
wouldn't  stand  on  that  in  case  she  thinks  other- 
wise— you  wish  her  to  understand  clearly  that 
you're  at  her  service  in  any  shape  she  prefers. 
That,  now,  would  be  quite  in  character  for  you, 
and  well  adapted  to  the  circumstances.  It  does 
the  disinterested  and  magnanimous  to  a  T.,  and 
yet  it's  practical.  No  girl  could  ask  for  any  better 
than  that." 

"  I  fear  it  would  go  better  in  verse  than  in  prose, 
Bob.  Such  a  flight  is  beyond  my  humble  powers. 
Keep  your  recipe  for  somebody  who  can  use  it. 
I  suppose  you'll  never  let  me  hear  the  last  of  that 
confounded  accident." 

"Then  the  lady's  feelings  are  to  go  for  no  more 
than  yours,  and  any  views  she  might  have  in  the 
matter  to  be  completely  disregarded  ?" 

"  Certainly,  if  you  insist  on  your  absurd  suppo- 
sition. Modest  women  don't  have  views  in  such 
matters  till  they're  asked,  nor  feelings,  to  speak 
of.  And  haven't  you  been  preaching  to  me  all 


It  would  not  do.  229 

these  years  that  not  views  and  feelings,  but  facts, 
govern  our  lives  ?  In  this  case  it's  true.  Between 
Miss  Edith  and  myself  a  great  gulf  is  fixed.  A 
poor  girl  may  marry  a  rich  man  without  shame, 
because  in  Nature's  order  the  man  is  the  provider 
and  supporter  ;  but  when  the  reverse  occurs,  the 
finger  of  scorn  is  justly  pointed  at  the  man  for- 
ever after.  And  worse  than  that  are  the  stings 
and  arrows  of  outraged  self-respect.  He  must 
bear  a  lowly  mind  indeed  who  sells  himself  for 
cash,  or  even  for  love.  I'm  not  so  poor  as  that. 
Let  Fitness  rule,  though  Cupid  fly." 

"  Dick,  I'm  disappointed  in  you.  I  thought  you 
went  it  for  chivalry,  but  this  is  mere  selfishness. 
You're  only  thinking  how  to  keep  right  with  your- 
self." 

"  That  comes  first,  of  course ;  if  a  man  doesn't 
attend  to  that,  who  else  can  do  it  for  him  ?  We're 
all  selfish,  but  we're  not  all  content  to  be  honor- 
ably so.  The  skin  is  nearer  than  the  shirt,  and 
I  never  professed  to  be  a  sentimentalist.  But 
I  wouldn't  say  'only.'  I  would  stand  by  a  friend 
if  I  had  the  ability,  like  you  and  the  De  Grouts. 
And  if  I  were  to  make  acquaintance  with  the 
tender  passion,  I  might  go  as  far  in  it  as  most, 
within  bounds  of  reason  and  decency.  But  I 
never  could  cry  amen  to  all  that  slop  of  Byron 
and  Moore. 

'  I  know  not,  I  care  not,  if  guilt's  in  thy  heart; 
I  but  know  that  I  love  thee,  whatever  thou  art.' 


230  //  would  not  do. 

That's  immoral  mush,  fit  for  lunatics.  The  seven- 
teenth century  men  understood  these  things 
better. 

'  I  could  not  love  thee,  dear,  so  much, 
Loved  I  not  honor  more.' 

That's  the  idea.  And  so  long  as  I  can't  go  into 
love-affairs  honorably,  I  shall  keep  out  of  them." 

"  That  sounds  fine,  but  man  was  not  made  for 
solitude.  You  shut  yourself  up  tight  in  a  cave 
of  egoism,  and  contemplate,  I'll  not  say  your  own 
perfections,  but  your  principles,  till  everything 
else  looks  small.  If  you  own  to  selfishness,  why 
not  be  selfish  to  some  purpose,  like  others  ?  Why 
sacrifice  yourself  to  these  finedrawn  fancies?" 

"  I'm  not  sacrificing  myself,  Bob ;  that's  the 
lingo  of  your  accepted  system,  which  puts  the 
cart  before  the  horse.  My  income,  or  the  income 
I  haven't,  is  not  myself :  I  should  sacrifice  myself 
if  I  gained  money  by  unworthy  means.  'What 
shall  it  profit  a  man,'  you  know.  Whether  I  have 
a  remarkably  good  time,  or  no  better  time  than 
I've  had  so  far,  is  not  vital  to  the  question  of 
myself.  Whether  I  make  my  way  and  my 
mark,  or  continue  in  total  obscurity,  is  not  of 
primary  importance  either.  If  it  looks  priggish 
I  can't  help  it ;  I've  no  yearning  to  lay  down  the 
laws  for  others,  but  I  see  what  it  is  for  me,  and 
I'd  sacrifice  any  number  of  external  chances  to 
preserve  my  soul,  my  standards,  my  individu- 
ality." 


//  would  not  do.  231 

"  That's  what  one  hears  in  church,  and  no 
doubt  it's  all  right  —  in  theory  at  least.  But 
you're  not  asked  to  accept  the  wages  of  unright- 
eousness, or  to  love  anybody  with  guilt  in  her 
heart.  On  the  contrary,  all  you  can  bring  against 
her  is  that  she  has  money.  But  that's  not  her 
fault,  nor  yours.  You  don't  want  her  for  her 
money.  You'd  rather  you  had  it  yourself,  and 
she  not  have  any  —  " 

"  O  no  I  wouldn't.  I'm  not  so  envious  as  that ; 
I  don't  want  to  rob  her.  You've  got  me  mixed 
up  with  somebody  else  now." 

"  Well,  you  know  what  I  mean.  Here's  a  good 
girl,  pure  and  sweet,  and  as  highminded  as  your- 
self—" 

"She's  not  here,  Bob,  and  she  never  will  be. 
But  if  she  were,  and  if  she  had  condescended  to 
such  foolish  fancies  as  you  credit  her  with,  she 
would  say  I  was  right,  that  I  must  forego  her  to 
save  myself.  Yes,  sir,  I  know  her  well  enough 
for  that." 

I  saw  it  was  of  no  use.  "  Well,  Dick,  I  fear 
you'll  never  make  your  fortune." 

"  Probably  not  ;  but  I  don't  think  I  shall  ever 
sink  into  the  pensioner  of  my  father-in-law,  or  the 
husband  of  my  wife." 


BOOK    FOURTH. 


IN    HARNESS. 


CHAPTER     XXX. 

MR.    PRANCE. 

GRAFTON'S  duties  were  somewhat  motley  and 
multifarious.  The  establishment  of  Lybert  &  Co. 
was  a  vast  manufactory,  where  brainwork  of  all 
degrees  prepared  for  and  underlaid  the  toil  of 
many  score  of  hands.  He  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  type-setting,  nor  with  the  filling  of  orders  at 
retail  or  wholesale ;  but  he  corrected  proof,  fur- 
nished book-notices  and  items  as  at  Miletus,  and 
occasionally  sat  in  judgment  on  manuscripts  to 
see  if  they  were  worth  printing.  Not  that  any 
of  these  momentous  functions  was  wholly  in- 
trusted to  him  ;  the  publications  of  the  great 
house,  and  still  more  the  products  of  genius  or 
learning  which  aspired  to  be  taken  into  that  cate- 
gory, whether  in  a  permanent  or  periodical  form, 
were  numerous  enough  to  claim  the  attention  of 
more  skilled  laborers  than  I  should  want  to  feed 
or  oversee.  These  gatekeepers  of  Literature 
were  more  or  less  carefully  graded,  and  only  long 
service,  or  high  pretensions,  could  reach  the  posts 


236  Mr.  Prance. 

of  command.  The  method  by  which  their  tasks 
were  divided  (for  method  there  of  necessity  was, 
and  rigidly  maintained)  was  veiled  in  mystery  to 
the  newcomer,  and  the  mere  contact  of  so  much 
symmetric  thinking  fatigued  his  rural  brain.  So 
rapidly  was  he  initiated,  so  much  was  taken  for 
granted  as  already  within  his  ken,  that  he  felt  as 
if  whirled  through  some  vast  congestion  of  novel 
machinery.  His  superiors  were  many,  and  he 
knew  not  as  yet  in  what  relation  they  stood  to  one 
another.  If  he  asked  for  instructions,  the  curt 
answers  resolved  themselves  into  a  single  formula, 
Do  what  you  are  told,  and  leave  the  rest.  The 
motto,  He  that  does  the  Will  shall  know  of  the 
doctrine,  appeared  qualified  by  the  warning,  What 
is  that  to  thee  ?  In  pity  for  his  bewilderment, 
or  more  probably  by  the  rule  of  the  place,  they 
assigned  him  at  first  to  kinds  of  work  with  which 
he  was  familiar ;  but  when  the  incoming  mails  and 
express  packages  claimed  his  assistance  in  sorting 
their  contents,  awe  and  perplexity  filled  his  soul. 
Yet  though  his  labors  were  in  great  part  mechani- 
cal, he  could  not  affect  to  despise  them,  for  the 
material  they  dealt  with  concerned  itself  with 
ideas,  and  only  mediately  with  dollars.  What 
solid  bundles  of  thought,  what  dried  flowers  and 
preserved  fruits  of  research,  were  passing  hourly 
through  his  hands  —  science,  divinity,  travel,  his- 
tory, all  the  way  down  to  fiction  !  The  building 
in  which  he  spent  his  days  was  a  warehouse  of 


Mr.   Prance.  237 

intellect,  the  pages  he  helped  prepare  formed 
journals  of  civilization.  He  respected  the  reign- 
ing silence,  the  intent  air  of  so  many  mintmasters 
and  coiners  of  the  brain. 

"  You'll  get  used  to  it  in  time,  youngster,"  said 
elderly  Mr.  Prance  one  day.  "  Meanwhile,  if  you 
can't  take  it  easy,  take  it  as  easy  as  you  can." 

Mr.  Prance  was  a  dignitary  of  grade  unknown 
to  the  novice,  with  an  observant  eye  which  at 
times  emitted  humorous  gleams  ;  to  him,  more 
freely  than  to  the  rest,  Dick  turned  when  in  quest 
of  information.  They  were  going  out  to  lunch, 
and  he  ventured  on  a  leading  question. 

"I  wish  you  would  tell  me  who  edits  the  fort- 
nightly." 

"Who  edits  it?  Why,  the  editor.  He's  a 
most  valuable  man ;  he  never  blunders,  or  gets 
sick,  or  goes  off  for  a  vacation ;  and  he  never 
dies,  because  he's  plural.  There  are  several  of 
him  ;  I'm  one,  and  you're  another." 

"  But  who  controls  or  manages  it  ?  Who's  the 
head  ? " 

"  Lybert  &  Co.,  of  course ;  they're  head  of 
everything  here.  We  all  look  up  to  them,  as  the 
planets  to  the  sun.  Didn't  you  know  that  ? " 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  there's  no  responsible 
editor  ? " 

"We're  all  responsible.  Neglect  orders,  or 
make  any  mistakes,  and  you'll  think  you're  in 
Utah,  with  the  all-seeing  eye  staring  at  you  from 


238  Mr.  Prance. 

the  rocks.  O,  I  forgot,  you  came  from  the  West ; 
you  mean  the  fighting  editor.  We're  not  like 
that ;  we  print  nothing  that  can  offend,  and  it's 
seldom  that  anybody  comes  in  to  complain  :  when 
he  does,  we  refer  him  to  the  porters.  Bear  that 
in  mind." 

"But  I  don't  see—" 

"  You  will  in  time.  You're  young  yet,  and  have 
much  to  learn.  But  why  this  exclusive  interest  in 
the  fortnightly  ?  Are  you  attached  to  that  ?  " 

"  That's  what  I'd  like  to  know.  I  seem  to  be 
hanging  on  the  edge  of  various  things." 

"  Just  so ;  we  all  are.  Didn't  you  read  the 
proof  of  the  Illustrated  —  the  advertisements 
at  least — and  punctuate  the  heavy  article  on 
Hygrometry  in  the  last  Quarterly  ?  Did  it  very 
well,  too.  Yes,  and  you  corrected  the  mythology 
in  the  Puerile  Delight,  and  saw  to  the  logarithms 
in  the  Modern  Mechanician,  and  supplied  offhand 
those  points  about  literary  females  for  the  Glass 
of  Fashion  when  they  were  a  quarter  of  a  column 
short  and  in  a  hurry.  That's  right,  my  son ; 
always  be  ready  when  you're  wanted.  But  do  you 
know  about  Kalmuck  musical  instruments,  and 
the  secret  history  of  the  treaty  of  Utrecht,  and 
the  founding  of  Perdue  University,  and  the  style 
of  topboots  A.  D.  1 300  ?  No  ?  Then  look  them 
up ;  they  may  be  needed.  We  are  paid  to  know 
everything,  and  when  we  don't  it  is  laid  on  the  last 
recruit.  I  have  most  of  the  other  points  myself, 


Mr.  Prance.  239 

and  could  prompt  you ;  but  you  must  learn  to  rely 
on  your  own  resources,  and  none  of  us  have  those 
I  mentioned." 

"You  like  your  little  joke,  Mr.  Prance,"  said 
Dick,  half  offended,  and  not  knowing  exactly  how 
to  take  this  quizzical  elder. 

"  Who,  I  ?  Not  at  all.  When  I  get  any  new 
jokes  I  keep  them  for  the  funny  columns  ;  we  pay 
extra  for  those,  as  for  poetry,  when  bad  enough  — 
that  is,  when  strictly  adapted  to  popular  apprehen- 
sion. That  is  why  all  our  men  are  so  silent  and 
serious :  they  are  saving  up  their  good  things, 
and  trying  to  invent  others,  in  training  for  the 
charge  of  the  Humorous  Department;  it  is  the 
most  lucrative  place  we  have.  But  the  incumbents 
never  live  long,  the  brain-work  is  so  exhausting. 
Apart  from  that,  no  levity  is  tolerated  in  the  shop. 
What  I  wish  to  show  you  is  that  we  are  all  parts  of 
one  vast  and  I  may  say  glorious  system,  revolving 
around  in  our  several  orbits,  but  in  perfect  har- 
mony, and  together  enlightening  the  universe  — 
yes,  sir,  no  less.  You  are  an  editor  of  all  these 
invaluable  publications  ;  so  am  I ;  so  are  most  of 
us.  What  more  useful,  more  noble  calling  ?  Let 
that  be  an  incentive  to  you  to  avoid  the  temptations 
of  the  metropolis,  to  labor  diligently,  and  above  all 
to  seek  no  public  recognition,  to  shun  the  siren 
Fame.  The  personal  element  is  suppressed  here, 
except  in  the  books  and  the  signed  articles,  which 
are  all  clone  outside.  What  we  write  is  editorial 


240  Mr.  Prance. 

and  nameless,  and  thus  the  more  impressive.  I 
went  once  on  business  to  see  Bolland,  the  conduc- 
tor of  Filmers,  and  shamelessly  acknowledged  as 
such.  He  pointed  out  a  young  man  seated  in  the 
office,  and  whispered,  'That's  the  assistant  editor 
of  the  Indian  Ocean.'  I  thought  something  would 
happen  to  those  men  ;  and  mark  you,  within  five 
short  years  Bolland  died,  and  the  other  is  now  a 
greenbacker  in  Congress.  Let  this  be  a  warning 
to  you.  It  was  a  bad  beginning  when  you  fell  out 
of  the  haymow  with  that  girl,  and  got  your  name 
in  the  papers.  O,  wasn't  it  a  haymow  ?  Well,  an 
apple  tree  then.  But  as  that  had  no  connection 
with  your  work  here,  you  may  be  able  to  live  it 
down,  if  you  eschew  all  thoughts  of  authorship." 

They  had  finished  their  lunch,  and  were  reenter- 
ing  the  great  building  on  Lore  Street.  "  'Sh,  now : 
not  a  word  of  what  I've  been  telling  you,  or  we'll 
both  be  discharged.  When  you  need  any  more 
points,  give  me  a  hint,  and  I'll  explain  to  you,  out 
of  office  hours." 

This  erratic  monitor  aroused  Grafton's  curiosity, 
which  he  saw  no  means  of  satisfying  just  then. 
But  a  few  days  after  a  colleague  of  his  own  age 
or  less  joined  him  at  the  nooning,  and  cheerfully 
answered  a  casual  query.  "Prance?  O,  he's  a 
queer  old  cock.  Used  to  have  money,  they  say, 
and  lost  it ;  wrote  some  books  an  age  ago,  but  they 
didn't  sell,  so  he  got  disappointed  and  cranky. 
What  does  he  do  in  the  shop  ?  Dashed  if  I 


Mr.  Prance.  241 

know ;  loafs  round  and  pecks  at  things  generally, 
I  guess,  same  as  you  do.  Got  a  pretty  daughter 
though.  I  made  an  excuse  to  call  there  one  night 
—  way  off  in  East  Sixteenth  Street  it  is ;  but  he 
saw  through  my  little  game  and  sent  me  off  in 
short  order,  so  I  didn't  see  the  girl  at  all.  Wont 
have  any  absinthe  ?  Where  in  hades  were  you 
raised  ?  That's  what  I  come  here  for."  Dick  was 
not  drawn  to  this  comrade,  who  affected  very  loud 
checks  and  a  flaming  necktie,  and  whose  manners 
had  by  no  means  that  repose  which  stamps  the 
caste  of  Vere  cle  Vere.  The  youth,  as  he  after- 
wards learned,  was  employed  in  the  mailing  depart- 
ment, and  did  not  properly  belong  to  the  editorial 
brotherhood  at  all. 

When  he  had  been  at  work  nearly  a  month,  he 
was  called  into  the  inner  sanctum  by  one  of  the 
chief  managers  (as  he  supposed)  of  the  periodicals, 
who  said,  "Mr.  Jones  is  sick  to-day,  and  I  must 
ask  you  to  look  over  these,"  indicating  somewhat 
less  than  a  bushel  of  manuscripts.  Dick  gazed 
at  the  pile  with  respect,  and  suggested  that  he 
would  prefer  to  carry  them  to  his  lodgings,  which 
was  assented  to  with  an  air  of  faint  surprise. 

"When  do  you  want  them  again  ?  "  he  asked. 

The  editor  looked  at  him  queerly,  he  thought, 
and  replied,  "  I  don't  know  that  I  want  them  at 
all.  You  can  probably  attend  to  them  ;  only  note 
such  as  are  accompanied  by  return  postage,  and 
keep  separate  from  the  rest." 


242  Mr.  Prance. 

His  pride  in  this  more  elevated  task  dampened 
by  uncertainty  as  to  what  was  expected  of  him, 
he  attacked  the  bundles  zealously,  and  kept  at 
them  through  half  the  night.  Many  of  the  in- 
tending contributions  were  either  intrinsically 
worthless,  or  plainly  unfitted  to  the  use  for  which 
they  were  offered ;  others  were  dubious ;  a  dozen 
stones,  some  essays  and  sketches,  and  a  few 
copies  of  verse,  he  thought  might  be  'available.' 
These  he  presented  next  morning  to  his  superior, 
who  received  them  with  visible  reluctance. 

"  What  are  these  for  ?  " 

"  For  one  or  other  of  our  publications,  sir ;  it 
is  hardly  in  my  province  to  determine  which. 
But  I  can  report  more  definitely  if  you  desire." 

"  O  no.  Did  it  strike  you  that  you  had  enough 
here  to  fill  two  weeklies  and  half  a  quarterly  ?  " 

"  I  don't  urge  them  all  for  admission,  sir. 
About  these  two  there  can  be  no  doubt,  in  my 
opinion,  and  probably  little  concerning  these 
verses  and  this  paper  on  education,  which  might 
do  best  for  the  Review  ;  the  rest  are  for  further 
consideration.  My  judgment  was  not  meant  to 
be  final,  I  presume." 

"  H'm ;  not  on  a  question  of  acceptance,  cer- 
tainly. You're  not  looking  very  bright  to-day, 
Mr.  Grafton." 

"I  sat  over  these  till  three,  sir,  and  then  was 
not  half  way  through  the  lot." 

The  editor  stared.     "  If  you  propose  to  spend 


Mr.  Prance.  243 

so  much  time  over  half  a  day's  mail,  I  fear  you 
will  never  get  through  your  duties." 

Dick  flushed.  "  You  may  remember  that  I 
have  had  no  instructions  as  to  this  part  of  my 
work.  You  told  me  to  look  the  manuscripts  over; 
I  supposed  that  meant  to  examine  them.  Doubt- 
less I  shall  be  able  to  do  it  more  rapidly  when  I 
have  had  more  practice." 

The  editor  fanned  himself,  and  looked  very 
weary :  it  was  a  hot  July  day,  though  but  ten 
A.M.  "  You  had  better  talk  to  Mr.  Prance  ;  I 
am  very  busy.  Take  these  things  to  him  ;  don't 
leave  them  here.  —  Just  one  word :  remember 
Talleyrand's  advice." 

Dick  took  Mr.  Prance  aside,  and  briefly  stated 
his  case.  The  veteran  shook  with  silent  laughter. 
"  What,  you  read  'em  ?  That'll  never  do.  But 
we  can't  talk  it  over  now.  Come  to  my  place 
to-night,  at  nine,  or  later  if  you  have  girls  or 
theatres  first.  No  ?  Exemplary  youth.  Well, 
at  nine  —  not  earlier." 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

EDITING    MADE    EASY. 

MR.  PRANCE  occupied  the  second  floor  of  a 
small  house  in  an  unfashionable  neighborhood. 
The  door  was  opened  by  a  bare-armed  maid  of 
Teutonic  appearance,  who  told  the  visitor  to  go 
upstairs  to  the  front  room.  Feeling  his  way 
thither  through  the  darkness,  he  was  bidden  to 
enter  and  sit  down.  The  host  was  at  a  desk  in 
his  shirt-sleeves,  writing  furiously.  "  Take  care 
of  yourself  for  two  minutes,"  he  said,  "  and  then 
I'll  attend  to  you."  Dick  looked  about  him  ;  the 
disorderly  room  was  full  of  a  workman's  litter. 
Books  were  on  the  tables,  the  chairs,  the  floors, 
as  well  as  on  two  of  the  walls  ;  everywhere  news- 
papers, pamphlets,  proofs,  and  '  copy.'  The  fur- 
niture was  solid  and  far  from  new  ;  there  were 
a  few  good  pictures,  and  one,  of  an  attractive 
woman  in  the  costume  of  twenty-five  years  before, 
hung  above  the  desk.  Presently  the  writer  threw 
down  his  pen  and  turned  his  long  lean  frame  and 
grizzled  locks  toward  Dick. 


Editing  made  Easy.  245 

"  Either  you're  early  or  I'm  late.  Here's  the 
devil  now."  A  grimy  boy  entered,  grinned,  re- 
ceived some  sheets  on  which  the  ink  was  barely 
dry,  and  departed.  "  No,  you're  not  disturbing 
me  ;  I'm  free  now.  You  see,  I  don't  work  for 
Lybert  only.  I  leave  the  shop  at  four  and  go 
to  the  Battle-Axe  office  ;  come  home  to  dinner, 
and  write  for  two  hours  or  so.  Been  looking  at 
the  books  ?  Sad  survivals  of  the  past,  except 
these  tools  for  constant  use.  I  had  a  library  once, 
but  it  went  long  ago,  with  most  possessions  of 
youth."  He  glanced  at  the  portrait,  and,  Dick 
thought,  suppressed  a  sigh.  "  Now  about  your 
business.  You  needn't  have  brought  that  truck." 
He  glanced  contemptuously  at  an  armful  of 
selected  MSS.  "  I  see  you're  warm.  There's 
a  little  balcony  back,  where  we  can  get  what  air 
there  is.  Take  off  your  coat  if  you  like.  No  ? 
Then  I'll  put  on  this  jacket  in  your  honor. 
Here's  Persian  tobacco,  and  a  choice  of  pipes ; 
I  can't  afford  cigars.  Better  light  up  here." 

He  turned  down  the  gas,  led  the  way  through 
one  or  two  dark  rooms,  opened  a  window  level 
with  the  floor,  struck  a  match,  and  found  two 
chairs.  The  dainty  white  bed,  the  feminine 
devices  strewed  about,  bespoke  an  absentee. 
"There's  no  other  way  through,"  said  the  host. 
"  My  daughter's  away,  but  I  wouldn't  let  every 
one  in  here  ;  not  that  fellow  Snide,  for  instance." 
Dick  remembered  the  youth  of  the  absinthe  and 


246  Editing  made  Easy. 

the  scarlet  tie.  "  Met  him  ?  Like  him  ?  No,  or 
you  wouldn't  be  yourself.  I  can  tell  a  gentleman 
when  I  see  him,  and  it  isn't  altogether  by  the 
clothes.  You'll  find  all  sorts  in  this  town,  and  in 
our  line  of  business.  Precious  poor  business  it  is 
too ;  but  you've  chosen  it,  and  I  suppose  you  want 
to  stay  in  it  awhile,  so  you've  got  to  learn  how  to 
handle  contributions." 

The  balcony  afforded  just  room  enough  to  tilt 
your  chair  back  and  deposit  your  feet  upon  the 
railing  ;  a  reprehensible  practice,  in  which  Grafton 
seldom  indulged.  It  was  a  quiet  place  for  that 
part  of  the  noisy  city:  the  stars  were  shining, 
and  the  streets  and  their  traffic  out  of  sight. 
"  We've  got  eight  feet  of  back  yard  here  ;  an  un- 
usual privilege." 

The  old  gentleman  seemed  to  have  left  his  sar- 
casms down  town,  and  to  meet  his  visitor  in  a 
mood  of  human  brotherhood.  Dick  was  embold- 
ened to  open  the  budget  of  his  troubles.  "  What 
did  Mr.  Perkins  mean  by  referring  me  to  Talley- 
rand?" 

"  Why,  he  saw  you  were  too  conscientious.  It's 
a  frailty  that  leans  to  virtue's  side,  and  when 
you've  outgrown  it,  you'll  make  better  stuff  than 
if  you  began  carelessly ;  but  it's  apt  to  be  trouble- 
some while  it  lasts.  No  zeal,  except  for  your 
employers.  You're  not  here  in  the  interest  of 
authors,  or  of  the  public,  or  of  literature,  but 
simply  of  Lybert  &  Co.  Ever  hear  what  the 


Editing  made  Easy.  247 

manager  of  the  Independent  Wesleyan  Board  of 
Publication  said  when  somebody  proposed  to  him 
to  reprint  their  early  documents  ?  '  We  don't 
care  a  button  for  the  fame  of  John  Wesley,  or  of 
Charles  Wesley,  or  any  other  man  :  we  care  only 
for  what  will  sell.'  Minister  he  was  too,  and  stood 
for  a  religious  house.  He  put  it  with  unnecessary 
coarseness  —  brutal  frankness  like  that  rarely  pays, 
except  in  Bismarck ;  it's  best  to  smooth  things 
over  —  but  he  stated  the  principle.  Intrinsic 
merit  is  neither  here  nor  there :  market  value  is 
what  concerns  every  publisher  and  every  editor." 

"I  understand  that,"  said  Dick;  "but  the 
Delight  and  the  quarterly  and  the  rest  are  made 
up  of  contributions,  mainly.  These  are  sent  in 
good  faith,  I  suppose,  and  to  be  taken  ditto.  If 
we  don't  examine  them,  how  can  we  tell  which  to 
accept  ? " 

"  My  dear  boy,  contributions  are  of  two  classes. 
We  get  all  we  want  by  contract  with  known  and 
privileged  writers ;  those  that  come  unsolicited 
from  people  we  never  heard  of  are  of  no  account." 

"  But  then  we  ought  to  give  notice  that  stran- 
gers are  not  admitted." 

"  That  wouldn't  do  ;  too  undemocratic  and  exclu- 
sive. Appearances  must  be  preserved.  We  can't 
protect  ourselves  against  these  tons  of  truck  that 
come  in  by  mail ;  but  we  needn't  spend  our  days 
and  nights  on  'em.  If  the  writers  enclose  return 
stamps,  we  can  send  back  their  stuff,  though  we 


248  Editing  made  Easy. 

never  promise  that ;  it's  a  mere  courtesy.  By  the 
way,  you've  got  your  stack  of  rejected  addresses 
yet  ? " 

"Yes;  I  waited  for  further  instructions." 

"  Don't  send  any  of  'em  off  for  a  month.  That 
keeps  up  the  proprieties,  shows  that  our  time  is 
valuable,  and  lets  the  anxious  scribes  think,  if  they 
like,  that  we've  read  their  bantlings  carefully,  after 
your  style."  Mr.  Prance  took  his  pipe  from  his 
mouth,  and  gave  way  to  merriment. 

"  I  didn't  read  all  of  them  through ;  some  I 
could  see  were  worthless,  just  by  dipping  into 
them  here  and  there.  If  we  don't  do  that  much, 
it  seems  to  me  the  writers  are  hardly  treated." 

"  A  writer  has  no  rights  —  except  the  favored 
few ;  that's  the  office  maxim.  They  are  a  guilty 
and  obtrusive  tribe,  the  natural  foes  of  editors : 
the  thing  to  do  with  them  is  to  suppress  them  ; 
politely,  of  course,  but  firmly.  Dismiss  from  your 
mind  any  lingering  sympathy  with  them,  if  you 
want  to  get  on  at  the  shop.  They've  been  stung 
by  lo's  gadfly,  and  their  mania  is  to  waste  ink 
and  spoil  paper,  and  then  send  the  result  to  us. 
There's  no  time  for  dipping  into  their  evil  concoc- 
tions :  we're  not  paid  for  that,  unless  Jones.  Do 
you  know  what  he  gets  ?  Six  dollars  a  week.  He 
can  do  nothing  else,  except  read  proof  indiffer- 
ently, but  he's  a  good  skipper.  He  can  wade 
through  a  hundred  of  these  burdens  of  Tyre,  or 
say  two  thousand  pages,  in  a  day,  and  that's  our 


Editing  made  Easy.  249 

average.  He  takes  them  as  they  come  in,  and 
they're  never  heard  of  again ;  he  knows  too  much 
to  hand  any  of  'em  to  Perkins.  You  can  under- 
stand now  how  Perkins  felt  when  you  took  him 
that  stack  this  morning ;  I  think  he  was  lenient 
with  you."  The  iron-gray  moustache  again  shook 
with  mirth.  "  Perhaps  Jones  reads  'em  some- 
times ;  he  can  if  he  likes  to  sit  up  nights.  But  it 
takes  a  good  deal  of  time,  and  management,  and 
a  sense  of  order,  which  Jones  happily  possesses, 
to  handle  a  hundred  papers  a  day,  of  all  sorts  and 
sizes  —  most  of  'em  in  a  dozen  or  more  loose 
pieces  —  and  keep  two-thirds  of  'em  a  month,  and 
then  send  'em  to  the  right  owners  with  our  cir- 
cular. You  can't  go  into  that  sort  of  business  ; 
your  time's  too  valuable." 

"  I'm  sorry,  for  I  should  like  to  do  just  this,  if  I 
were  allowed." 

The  veteran  bestowed  a  glance  of  pity  on  his 
junior.  "You  wouldn't,  if  you'd  seen  a  little  more 
of  it;  it's  a  dreadful  job.  Sentimental  farmers' 
daughters,  who've  been  one  term  at  boarding 
school,  send  you  their  ideas  of  life  and  men  as 
they  might  be.  Ouida's  a  fool  to  these ;  you've 
no  conception,  till  you  strike  them,  how  gorgeous 
heroes,  and  palaces,  and  passions  can  be.  Widows, 
who  can  write  no  more  than  the  dead,  tell  you 
how  they've  got  nine  small  children  to  keep  from 
starvation,  and  wont  you  please  find  a  place  for 
this  first  effort,  and  they  may  do  better  next  time. 


250  Editing  made  Easy. 

Leading  members  of  the  Podunk  Debating  Society 
have  observed  with  approval  your  endeavors  to 
raise  the  standard  of  poetry,  and  enclose  a  little 
thing  which  was  hailed  with  enthusiasm  at  the  last 
meeting ;  ail  their  friends  say  it's  just  what  you 
want.  And  evil-minded  old  parsons  in  the  back 
country  weigh  you  down  with  dreadful  lectures 
on  temperance  and  citizenship.  This  kind  always 
want  their  rant  back,  under  the  delusion  that  they 
can  get  it  in  elsewhere :  the  widows  seldom  think 
of  that.  My  boy,  I've  been  there — long  ago.  It's 
far  worse  now." 

Dick  allowed  one  remorseful  throb  to  the  alleged 
widows  :  they  might  have  planted  unwisely,  but 
they  had  looked  for  some  small  harvest,  and  it 
seemed  hard  for  them  to  lose  even  the  seed  corn. 
"  Then,  if  a  writer  forgets  the  stamps,  his  produc- 
tion is  absolutely  lost  and  thrown  away  ? " 

"  O  no ;  it's  worth  a  cent  and  a  half  a  pound. 
The  firm  has  a  paper  mill,  you  know.  They  of- 
fered to  allow  Jones  the  waste  as  his  perquisites, 
but  he  was  fool  enough  to  prefer  a  salary.  I  judge 
he  repents  that  mistake  now.  All  this  is  confi- 
dential, of  course." 

"  Is  there  no  way  of  stopping  this  flood  of  offer- 
ings?" 

"  None.  Were  we  to  attempt  the  ill-judged 
charity  of  requiring  certificates  of  moral  character 
and  a  high-school  education  from  new  contributors, 
or  announcing  that  none  but  trained  writers  need 


Editing  made  Easy.  251 

apply,  we  should  scare  away  only  those  who  might 
perhaps  do  good  work.  The  ignorant,  the  incapa- 
ble, the  hopeless  cranks,  would  keep  on  just  the 
safne." 

"  What  does  one  in  Jones'  position  do  to  these 
persistent  scribblers,  who  wont  take  No  for  an 
answer  ?  Can't  they  be  warned  off  somehow  ?  " 

"Jones  doesn't  know  one  from  another.  With 
our  method,  you  might  see  a  name  fifty  times  and 
not  remember  it.  Should  you  chance  to  recognize 
a  professional  bore,  you  might  hold  his  piece  two 
months,  and  then  three,  and  finally  lose  the  next. 
That  ought  to  be  sufficient  notice,  if  he  has  any 
sense.  But  many  of  'em  haven't.  They're  anxious 
to  get  into  type  at  any  cost,  and  think  they're 
Thackerays  and  George  Eliots  in  disguise." 

"  Yes,  but  with  this  system  the  real  Thackerays 
and  George  Eliots  are  liable  to  be  suppressed. 
How  is  a  new  man  who  has  anything  in  him  to 
get  started  ?  There  must  be  some  good  substance 
in  this  deluge  of  trash." 

"  Of  course.  Bolland  used  to  say  the  trouble 
was  not  so  much  in  the  flood  of  trash  as  in  the 
\flood  of  really  good  matter ;  but  then  he  was  a 
popular  author.  The  chances  are  against  the 
sucking  Thackerays  :  I  mean,  they  are  such  rare 
birds  that  we  can't  afford  to  be  looking  for  them 
among  the  crows  and  sparrows.  You  see,  of  every 
fifty  contributions  we  receive,  forty  will  be  useless 
for  any  purpose,  and  whatever  the  other  ten  may 


252  Editing  made  Easy. 

be,  we  haven't  room  for  more  than  one  of  them, 
and  no  time  to  see  which  it  is.  Now  are  you 
satisfied  ? " 

"  Between  ourselves,  no.  Those  ten  possibili- 
ties, or  at  least  the  one  writer  of  merit,  has  some 
human  rights,  the  office  maxim  to  the  contrary 
notwithstanding.  I  can't  see  that  we  are  doing 
our  duty  by  him,  or  by  the  public,  which  wants 
him  detected  and  brought  to  the  front." 

"  My  dear  boy,  Clough  has  answered  that. 

'The  Summutn  Pulchrum  rests  in  heaven  above: 
Do  thou,  as  best  thou  mayst,  thy  duty  do.' 

You're  not  editing  an  ideal  magazine  on  your  own 
account :  if  you  were,  it  would  soon  go  to  ever- 
lasting smash.  The  young  writers  of  merit  must 
take  their  chance.  Once  they've  shown  what 
they  can  do  and  got  their  names  up,  they  may 
have  all  the  space  they  want  and  most  favored 
nation  terms." 

"  I  can't  see  how  they  are  to  do  it,  so  long  as 
we  confound  them  with  the  mob.  They  can't  get 
anything  printed,  you  say,  till  they've  made  their 
mark,  and  how  can  they  make  their  mark  except 
in  print?  What  ghost  of  a  chance  have  they 
while  we  refuse  to  look  at  their  writings?" 

"Somebody  else  may  —  though  it's  not  likely. 
Let  them  begin  on  the  country  papers  and  work 
up,  like  Artemus  and  Mark  and  Petroleum  V.; 
that's  the  way  now,  unless  one  has  money  and 


Editing  made  Easy.  253 

friends.  Or  if  they're  of  superfine  fibre,  and 
allow  themselves  to  be  driven  off  the  track  by 
disgust  or  starvation,  the  world  can  wag  on  with- 
out them  somehow.  It's  their  funeral,  not  yours." 

"  I  know,  and  I'm  not  quite  ready  to  be  buried 
yet.  As  you  say,  I  am  powerless  to  help  ;  but 
somebody  ought  to  discriminate.  Every  magazine 
in  the  land  professes  to  long  for  fresh,  bright 
matter  from  new  sources,  and  hold  out  both  arms 
to  budding  genius." 

"  Of  course.  If  any  responsible  party  will 
guarantee  us  that  Brown  or  Blue  is  going  to  be 
paying  stock,  we'll  invest  in  them  fast  enough. 
But  how  the  deuce  can  we  tell  beforehand  ?  We 
can't  sift  all  these  tons  of  sand  in  search  of  a 
stray  diamond  or  two." 

"It  comes  to  this,  Mr.  Prance;  let  some  one 
else  discover  and  label  the  best  writers,  and  we'll 
let  them  in.  I  thought  the  discovering  was  what 
we  were  for,  in  part." 

"  Well,  you  were  a  green  tree ;  you'll  ripen  in 
time.  Exploration  is  too  expensive  for  us  ;  we 
haven't  the  force  for  it.  It's  cheaper  and  safer 
to  stick  to  the  old  approved  hands.  Did  you  ever 
know  a  publication  —  except  the  Skakerly,  which 
pays  nothing  —  to  invite  contributors  ?  " 

"  No.  But  how  did  the  old  approved  hands  get 
to  be  such  ?  How  does  any  one  come  to  be 
known,  at  this  rate  ?  " 

"  Some  by  the  newspapers,  as  aforesaid  ;  some 


254  Editing  made  Easy. 

by  hiring  a  hall,  that  is,  spending  a  few  hundreds 
and  sacrificing  a  first  book  to  secure  an  audience  : 
some  by  having  friends  at  court  :  some  by  pure 
persistence,  or  pure  luck,  or  a  combination  of  the 
two.  If  it's  in  them,  it'll  come  out ;  if  they  have 
any  call  to  write,  they'll  keep  on  writing  —  at 
least  that's  the  supposition.  We're  not  respon- 
sible for  their  discouragements,  or  for  any  tem- 
porary injustice  that  may  be  done.  We've  got 
—  that  is,  our  employers  have  —  to  sell  our  pub- 
lications, and  you  and  I  and  Perkins  and  the  rest 
are  paid  to  keep  up  the  standard." 

"  But  do  we  keep  it  up  with  truck  like  Wegler's 
last  story,  and  Boom's  dissertation  on  Infinity  ?  I 
thought  they  rang  very  false." 

"  O,  the  concern's  not  gotten  up  for  you  and 
me.  Nobody  wants  to  read  the  whole  magazine, 
and  nobody  wades  through  that  swamp  of  Boom's, 
but  it  looks  well  to  have  a  few  heavy  articles  : 
they  carry  an  air  of  profundity,  and  give  us  a 
reputation  as  all-round  men,  knowing  about  all 
there  is  to  be  known,  and  able  to  tackle  any 
subject  in  the  heavens  above  or  the  earth  below 
or  the  waters  beneath,  though  we  generally  deign 
to  be  intelligible  and  entertaining.  That  kind  of 
name  pays  better  in  the  long  run  than  a  merely 
literary  or  a  merely  popular  one.  Boom  got 
only  half  rates  for  that  thing,  of  course.  As  to 
Wegler,  he's  running  out,  you  know ;  but  he  can 
travel  a  year  or  two  yet  on  his  old  passes.  It's 


Editing  made  Easy.  255 

not  intrinsic  excellence  we're  after,  but  the  public 
taste,  and  the  dear  public  wants  names.  They 
look  to  see  who's  written  a  thing  before  they  read 
it,  and  if  we  brought  out  a  number  blazing  with 
new  Turgeneffs  and  unaccredited  Tennysons,  the 
circulation  would  fall  off.  How  many  do  you 
suppose  judge  for  themselves  ?  Nine  out  of  ten 
readers  want  a  fingerpost.  Of  course  a  man 
who's  made  a  name  may  lose  it  by  being  too 
greedy  and  careless ;  but  it  takes  a  long  time, 
longer  than  it  does  to  make  it.  However,  that's 
not  the  point ;  you  want  me  to  talk  to  my  text,  for 
your  private  edification  and  guidance.  Between 
the  brew  that's  always  on  top  and  in  demand,  and 
the  dregs  that  go  into  the  gutter,  is  an  inter- 
mediate class  ;  things  from  men  that  have  been 
personally  introduced  or  are  of  some  standingj 
and  so  mustn't  be  offended  :  you  don't  want  their 
stuff,  but  you  must  be  civil  about  it.  I  hope 
Perkins  wont  give  you  any  such  without  notifica- 
tion ;  it  might  get  you  into  a  scrape.  In  fact,  I'll 
see  that  he  doesn't." 

"  Much  obliged,  I'm  sure.  What  must  I  do  in 
such  a  case  ?  " 

"  Write  to  the  author,  giving  the  reason  for 
rejection ;  something  half  complimentary,  so  as 
to  let  him  down  easy.  Say  the  dialogue  is  very 
bright  and  sparkling,  but  the  action  hardly  rapid 
enough  :  or  you're  deeply  impressed  by  the  imagin- 
ation and  feeling  of  his  piece,  but  it's  long,  and 


256  Editing  made  Easy. 

you're  awfully  pressed  for  spaced  or  nothing  would 
prevent  your  accepting  his  admirable  sketch  but  the 
fact  that  you've  just  booked  one  on  the  same  sub- 
ject. You  can  ring  any  number  of  changes  on  these 
tunes,  and  it's  not  often  necessary.  Always  sign 
'  Editors,'  plural  —  never  individually,  of  course. 
Twenty  years  ago,  and  even  ten,  such  letters  were 
sent  more  commonly,  if  not  in  most  cases.  Some 
of  the  smaller  magazines  still  make  a  pretence 
of  doing  that,  but  it's  a  mere  formula,  like  our 
printed  circulars,  except  that  they  return  thanks 
for  the  opportunity  of  examining  the  nuisances ; 
we're  above  that  particular  humbug.  I've  heard 
of  cases,  too,  in  which  those  concerns  actually 
looked  at  a  strange  MS.  enough  to  form  an  idea 
of  what  was  in  it :  Priest  came  to  light  in  that 
fashion,  and  perhaps  Hawser  and  Braddock.  It 
must  be  very  exceptional,  even  with  them.  I  sup- 
pose some  new  hand  like  you  had  the  strange 
fancy  to  take  a  bagful  of  papers  along  on  his 
vacation,  and  put  these  in  with  a  favorable  report 
when  the  chief  was  in  a  good  humor  after  dinner. 
Even  so,  I  don't  see  how  they  can  afford  the  time. 
Of  course,  there  are  just  as  good  fish  in  the  sea  as 
ever  came  out  of  it ;  but  we  can't  go  fishing  for 
them  —  not  here  :  perhaps  they  can  in-  Boston  and 
Philadelphia.  Now  as  to  these  reams  of  spoiled 
foolscap,  send  'em  back  for  the  guilty  authors  to 
wear  on  cold  nights  —  after  a  month,  mind  —  or 
sell  'em  to  the  ragman.  O  yes,  amuse  yourself 


Editing  made  Easy.  257 

with  'em  evenings  and  Sundays,  if  you  like,  and 
grow  old  before  your  time  ;  but  remember,  it's  a 
bad  habit,  and  it's  not  business.  And  above  all, 
don't  bother  Perkins.  I'll  see  you  again  soon." 


CHAPTER     XXXII. 

AN  UNDOMESTIC  INTERIOR. 

ALTHOUGH  Grafton  did  not  then  realize  the  full 
measure  of  his  indebtedness  to  Mr.  Prance,  he 
was  strongly  attracted  by  the  outspoken  old  man. 
What  he  heard  had  not  delighted  him,  but  he  saw 
it  was  laid  down  not  as  abstractly  excellent  but 
as  actually  existent  if  not  inevitable ;  as  fact,  not 
theory ;  as  a  rule  for  his  conduct,  and  by  no  means 
as  food  for  his  soul.  And  he  was  beginning  to  dis- 
tinguish between  these  two  sorts  of  truth  ;  to  learn 
that  though  man  may  not  live  by  bread  alone,  his 
baser  part  cannot  live  on  ideals  at  all.  He  had  no 
wish  to  imperil  his  position  by  coming  into  absurd 
conflict  with  the  rules  and  ideas  of  his  superiors  : 
if  scamped  work  was  insisted  on,  he  was  not  re- 
sponsible for  the  scamping.  If  the  eminent  and 
variegated  publications  of  Lybert  &  Co.  awoke 
delusive  hopes  in  a  myriad  bosoms  of  the  scribbling 
tribe,  that  was  not  his  doing,  and  really  he  could 
not  expect  the  great  house  to  alter  its  policy  at  the 
bidding  of  a  newly  imported  and  inexperienced 


An  Undomestic  Interior.  259 

subordinate.  It  was  not  so  much  the  quality  of 
the  work  you  had  to  do  as  the  spirit  in  which  you 
did  it  that  credited  or  discredited  you  ;  and  if  his 
tasks  were  not  quite  what  he  had  expected,  he 
could  but  discharge  them  as  well  as  circumstances 
would  allow.  As  long  as  no  positive  dishonesty 
was  required — and  Mr.  Prance  must  have  been 
joking  about  those  humbugging  letters  to  rejected 
but  respected  contributors  ;  at  any  rate,  they  were 
seldom  needed.  In  such  a  case  he  would  be  taken 
sick  like  Jones,  or  avoid  the  job  somehow.  He 
would  not  go  direct  against  conscience,  even  in 
such  a  trivial  matter ;  but  he  could  not  again  tax 
the  patience  of  his  friends  to  find  a  new  place  in 
which  he  might  earn  his  bread.  Did  he  not  remem- 
ber that  poor  Maryland  minister  who  used  to  say 
with  such  beautiful  faith,  '  The  Lord  will  provide ' ; 
and  then  the  neighbors,  knowing  that  the  mealbag 
was  empty  and  not  likely  to  be  replenished  by  any 
active  efforts  of  that  trustful  parent,  would  bring 
in  provisions,  lest  the  wolf  should  devour  the  un- 
protected colony  of  little  Red  Ridinghoods.  No, 
he  could  not  play  that  part — though  he  had  no 
wife  or  children  to  suffer,  thank  Heaven.  He 
must,  he  would  be  practical :  he  would  bend  his 
pride,  and  submit  to  fate,  and  do  the  duties  that 
lay  nearest,  though  they  were  nothing  to  boast  of, 
and  seemed  to  result  in  no  more  than  keeping  him 
decently  clad  and  out  of  debt.  It  was  horribly  hot 
and  lonesome  here  in  town,  with  his  few  friends 


260  An   Undomestic  Interior. 

away ;  and  it  was  so  peaceful  and  homelike  at 
Oaklands.  If  only  —  O  yes ;  if,  and  if,  and  if. 
If  fancies  were  diamonds,  then  knaves  would  be 
kings,  and  beggars  could  go  on  horseback.  If 
one's  ancestors  had  exercised  common  foresight,  or 
if  oneself  had  any  'faculty,'  why  then  we  would  be 
out  of  this  coil.  At  this  point,  as  he  owned  to  me 
long  afterwards,  he  dropped  into  an  inexpensive 
house  of  refreshment,  and  imbibed  a  B.  and  S.  It 
was  a  most  unusual  indulgence  for  him,  but  he 
needed  invigoration,  and  felt  as  if  something  would 
happen  if  he  did  not  get  it  just  then. 

He  went  home  ;  it  was  but  an  unpretentious 
chamber,  such  as  shelters  ten  thousand  impecu- 
nious bachelors  in  Babylon  the  Great,  near  the 
roof  of  a  fifth-rate  mansion  in  a  '  long  unlovely 
street '  well  away  from  Murray  Hill.  He  climbed 
the  stairs  slowly,  and  sat  down  with  that  faithful 
consoler,  his  pipe ;  it  was  an  old  meerschaum  that 
had  stood  by  him  from  college  days.  He  did  not 
tax  its  fidelity  by  too  constant  usage,  but  relieved 
it  with  humbler  substitutes  of  brier  and  red  clay ; 
but  when  he  wanted  to  do  any  special  thinking, 
or  draw  into  himself  away  from  an  ungenial  world, 
this  was  his  chosen  comrade.  Herein,  says 
worthy  Adam  Clarke,  consists  the  ungodliness 
of  tobacco ;  men  claim  to  find  in  that  profane 
weed  solace  in  their  troubles  which  should  be 
sought  only  from  the  Spirit.  Per  contra,  it  was 
a  pious  man  before  the  commentator's  time  who 


An  Undomestic  Interior.  261 

found  in  his  long  '  churchwarden  '  the  model  for 
a  future  spouse,  such  as  should  '  never  burn  to 
thwart  his  will,  never  burn  to  use  him  ill/  but  by 
turns  soothe  and  stimulate,  and  'often,  when  his 
thoughts  were  low,  send  them  where  they  ought 
to  go.'  In  our  secular  age  men  take  comfort 
where  they  can  get  it,  and  Grafton's  criminality, 
if  such,  was  not  of  the  grossly  sensual  kind. 

As  he  pursued  his  meditations  under  this  gentle 
influence,  it  became  clearer  that  he  must  distin- 
guish between  his  recent  instructions  and  their 
giver.  Mr.  Prance  preserved  what  most  early 
lose,  a  mental  margin.  He  could  put  a  case  for- 
cibly, yet  keep  himself  outside  it  ;  he  knew  the 
exigencies  of  business,  but  was  not  wholly  swal- 
lowed up  thereby.  Through  the  severe  official 
voice  spoke  the  practised  critic  of  life  at  large, 
who  accepted  his  own  doings  and  belongings  as 
part  of  a  not  too  admirable  scheme  of  things,  and 
coddled  no  narrow  prejudice  on  their  behalf  as 
being  his.  '  So  it  is,  and  we  can't  mend  it '  ;  this 
was  the  burden  of  his  testimony.  He  talked  from 
the  head,  not  the  heart,  as  one  who  might  have 
found  the  latter  organ  troublesome ;  but  if  the 
substance  of  his  communication  seemed  harsh, 
there  was  kindness  in  its  purpose. 

Dick  could  not  drive  the  poor  would-be  authors 
from  his  head,  with  their  ill-starred  armadas  that 
were  lost  at  sea,  or  came  back  bruised  and  empty, 
and  nothing  to  show  for  the  expenses  of  the  trip. 


262  An  Undomestic  Interior. 

They  were  not  his  affair  at  all ;  but  he  was  an 
unthrifty  manager,  whose  brain-force  expended 
itself  far  too  largely  in  speculations  on  abstract 
Fitness,  and  how  things  ought  to  be  in  a  con-' 
ceivable  universe.  So  much  waste,  such  mis- 
directed or  unutilized  energy,  afflicted  him  like 
a  personal  misfortune.  All  over  the  land  were 
homes  or  garrets,  and  some  of  them  bare  of  plen- 
ishing, lighted  now  by  a  flickering  candle  of  hope, 
to  go  out  when  these  misbegotten  manuscripts 
came  back  with  that  infernal  circular.  It  would 
be  bad  enough  if  they  were  all  born  of  blundering 
imbecility  ;  but,  however  young  at  the  trade,  he 
had  seen,  and  Prance  admitted,  that  this  was  not 
so.  There  might  be  men  and  women  cabined, 
cribbed,  confined  by  the  blind  routine  of  circum- 
stances, who  felt  their  wings  sprouting  and  heard 
Apollo's  faint  far-off  call,  but  were  chained  to 
the  ox  like  Pegasus,  set  to  plough  stony  fields 
or  haul  manure,  and  harnessed  down  so  that  they 
could  not  soar.  And  some  of  these  were  crying 
to  him  for  help ;  but  he  too  was  tied  and  power- 
less. It  was  in  literature  then  as  in  everything 
else  —  unless  one's  whole  nature  went  to  money- 
grubbing. 

"  What  hand  and  brain  went  ever  paired? 
What  heart  alike  conceived  and  dared? 
What  act  proved  all  its  thought  had  been? 
What  will  but  felt  the  fleshly  screen  ? " 


An   Undomestic  Interior.  263 

Yes,  there  must  still  be  foiled  Chattertons,  minds 
that  the  world  needed  but  knew  not,  souls  thirst- 
ing for  their  proper  work  but  condemned  to  drop 
short  of  the  goal,  or  survive  to  be  hedgers  and 
ditchers.  What  was  it  for,  this  confused  and 
cruel  medley  ?  What  did  it  mean,  the  dark  vast 
roll  of  failures  and  of  woes  ?  It  was  very  pretty 
to  preach  about  suffering  and  being  strong, 
about  patience  having  her  perfect  work,  about 
ripening  under  trials.  All  that  might  be  if  one 
saw  an  end  within  reach,  held  a  clue  to  the 
labyrinth.  One  could  be  patient  and  steadfast 
if  there  were  any  visible  cause  to  fight  for ;  but 

"Neither  battle  I  see,  nor  arraying,  nor  King  in  Israel, 
Only  infinite  jumble  and  mess  and  dislocation, 
Backed  by  a  solemn  appeal,  '  For  God's  sake  do  not  stir, 
there!"' 

That  was  about  it ;  Clough  understood.  When 
you  wanted  to  make  an  effort  toward  mending 
things  ever  so  little,  no  matter  where  or  how,  they 
would  not  let  you,  and  probably  considered  you 
presumptuous  and  profane  :  if  you  kept  on  trying, 
you  would  be  pilloried  or  starved.  How  could 
'Well  done'  be  said  at  last  —  supposing  there  was 
anybody  to  say  it  —  when  one  had  no  chance  to 
do  anything  ?  Just  earning  one's  bread  and 
cheese,  and  helping  to  oil  the  machinery  by  which 
the  firm  grew  rich,  was  not  doing,  it  was  only 
pretending.  Such  seemed  the  way  all  around  ; 
a  set  of  children  playing  at  this  and  that,  and 


264  An  Undomestic  Interior. 

making  believe  it  was  real  and  important.  Your 
life  might  be  a  lie,  your  whole  work  unsound  and 
poisonous,  and  then  the  Bishop  in  your,  funeral 
sermon  would  praise  your  persistent  energy,  and 
set  you  up  as  an  example  to  the  young.  Energy  ! 
One  could  be  energetic  for  substances,  but  not 
for  shams.  The  building  materials  approved  and 
used  seemed  no  better  than  wood,  hay,  stubble ; 
where  was  the  gold,  the  silver,  the  precious  stones 
that  could  withstand  the  fire  ?  Where  the  large 
and  noble  aim,  the  hold  on  reality,  the  sincere 
and  simple  truth  ?  Gone  out  of  fashion  long  ago  ; 
driven  to  the  graveyard  or  the  poorhouse  with 
those  who  cared  for  them.  Ah  well,  he  had  been 
through  this  wood  a  hundred  times,  and  always 
came  out  at  the  same  place  —  nowhere.  Better 
go  to  bed  now,  or  he  might  be  late  at  the  shop 
to-morrow. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

AT    DINNER    WITH    MR.    LEAF. 

GRAFTON  expected  to  hear  no  more  of  his 
selections  ;  but  a  few  days  later  Mr.  Prance  came 
to  him  and  asked  where  he  took  his  dinners,  and 
whether  he  were  engaged  for  that  evening.  He 
answered  that  he  never  had  engagements  unless 
on  Sundays,  and  dined  anywhere,  at  restaurants 
about  town.  The  older  man  said  he  was  in  the 
same  boat  just  then,  and  invited  his  junior  to 
call  at  the  Bat  tie- Axe  office  at  half-past  five.  As 
they  rode  up  town  (Dick  usually  walked  both  ways, 
for  reasons  sanitary  and  financial),  it  appeared 
that  they  were  going  to  encounter  a  circle  of 
artists. 

"But  I  know  almost  nothing  about  art,"  Dick 
objected. 

"  You're  not  required  to  ;  they  don't  want  to 
talk  shop.  They  are  very  good  fellows,  and  gen- 
erally meet  at  dinner  for  company's  sake  :  I  often 
join  them  when  I'm  alone  at  home.  They  look 
up  places  that  give  the  most  and  best  —  victuals 


266  At  Dinner  with  Mr.  Leaf. 

and  drink  and  style — for  fifty  to  seventy-five 
cents." 

"  Not  kept  by  natives,  I  suppose.  I  fed  more 
Americano  in  the  West,  and  now  I  try  to  get  a 
change." 

"  Certainly  ;  foreigners  understand  these  things 
much  better  than  we,  when  economy  is  an  object. 
Few  of  these  men  can  afford  more  than  a  dollar 
a  day  for  food,  and  yet  they  like  a  glass  of  wine 
and  a  touch  of  Paris  or  Vienna  or  Florence  :  they 
favor  an  Italian  place  this  month.  You  see,  we 
get  enough  of  our  own  trade  in  working  hours, 
if  they  don't.  These  painters  come  the  nearest 
of  what's  left  now  to  the  old  Bohemia :  they  take 
a  man  on  his  merits,  no  questions  asked  as  to 
what  you're  worth  or  what  you've  done,  and  you 
feel  at  home  at  once.  It's  the  most  thorough 
realization  of  democratic  equality  to  be  found  in 
America,  among  people  who  know  something  and 
amount  to  something.  General  society  in  Balti- 
more has,  or  had,  a  little  of  this  openness,  but  in 
no  northern  city  that  I've  heard  of." 

They  entered  an  eating-house  on  Third  Av- 
enue ;  it  was  small  but  neat,  and  nearly  full  at 
that  early  hour.  Several  gentlemen  hailed  Prance 
jovially,  and  made  room  at  one  of  the  tables  ; 
most  of  their  names  seemed  familiar  to  Dick  as 
he  was  introduced.  As  a  waiter  brought  in  the 
claret,  "Hold  on,"  said  one  of  the  artists:  "let 
us  have  the  Neapolitan  instead,  in  your  big  jug. 


At  Dinner  with  Mr.  Leaf.  267 

He's  got  that  lately,  and  it's  not  meant  for  out- 
siders :  you'll  see  the  difference."  Six  courses 
were  produced  successively,  each  a  single  dish  ; 
the  macaroni  was  beyond  competition.  An  aver- 
age appetite  need  ask  for  nothing  more,  unless 
in  the  way  of  dessert.  The  talk  ranged  from 
Siberia  to  Texas,  and  from  the  last  People  to  the 
last  prizefight :  the  newcomer  was  accepted  as 
one  of  themselves,  and  felt  as  if  among  friends. 
Cigars  were  lit,  but  long  before  they  were  finished 
Prance  said  he  must  be  off. 

"  It's  an  unchristian  habit,"  one  of  the  others 
remarked,  "this  working  at  night.  I  hope  you're 
not  going  to  train  Mr.  Grafton  to  it." 

"  He  should  have  belonged  to  your  order," 
Prance  replied.  "  You  votaries  of  the  ideal  can 
take  life  easily ;  we  slaves  of  stern  reality  have  no 
hours  to  spare." 

When  they  were  in  the  street  he  went  on, 
"  Some  whom  you'd  be  apt  to  meet  there  earlier 
or  later  are  out  of  town  :  these  fellows  are  stalled 
here  now." 

"  Why,  I  thought  Purple  and  Indigo  had  a  good 
deal  of  reputation." 

"  So  they  have  in  a  way,  but  not  a  way  that 
brings  much  income  with  it.  What  you've  seen  of 
theirs  were  merely  potboilers  —  in  our  papers  and 
the  like.  They  paint  very  well,  but  it's  not  every 
season  that  they  can  sell  pictures  enough  to  take 
them  to  the  Adirondacs  or  the  Maine  coast.  Their 


268  At  Dinner  with  Mr.  Leaf. 

studios  are  rented  by  the  year,  and  they  sleep 
there,  whereas  they  would  have  to  pay  for  lodging 
as  well  as  board  in  the  country.  If  last  year's 
sketches  give  out,  they'll  go  a  little  way  up  the 
Hudson  or  into  Jersey  in  October.  Then  they're 
used  to  this  kind  of  living,  and  to  each  other's 
company :  they  go  out  hardly  more  than  you  and 
I.  Yes,  they  make  little  more  than  we,  and  with 
us  it's  less  precarious  —  as  long  as  we  keep  our 
places." 

"  But  Mr.  Leaf  surely  is  a  man  of  note.  I  was 
surprised  to  meet  him  in  such  a  place." 

"O,  he  goes  anywhere  with  the  boys.  You 
might  have  been  surprised  to  meet  Kirk,  or  Lag 
erland,  or  Persimmons:  those  aristocrats  of  the 
brush  are  at  their  palatial  villas  now,  and  never 
dine  in  Third  Avenue  nor  mix  with  you  and  me. 
Yes,  Leaf  has  a  national  and  you  might  say  a 
European  fame,  but  it's  largely  in  the  past,  and 
orders  are  not  plenty  with  him  at  present.  He's 
stiff  in  his  notions,  though  not  in  his  manners  ;  at 
near  seventy  he's  the  youngest  of  that  set,  and  a 
royal  good  fellow.  The  purest  democrat  I  know : 
he  resents  any  show  of  deference  to  his  age,  or 
his  talents,  or  his  repute ;  it's  manhood  suffrage 
with  him,  or  nothing.  He's  worth  your  knowing 
further ;  no  man  in  New  York  more  so.  Drop 
in  at  his  studio  when  you  have  a  spare  hour,  as 
he  suggested." 


At  Dinner  with  Mr.  Leaf.  269 

"  O,  that  was  a  mere  form  of  courtesy,  I 
imagine." 

"These  men  don't  use  forms  of  courtesy,  my 
lad  —  not  for  form's  sake.  What  they  say  they 
mean,  and  Leaf  especially.  He'll  be  as  glad  to  see 
you  as  if  you  were  a  millionaire ;  more  so,  for  he 
hates  men  of  money,  and  takes  you  for  a  man  of 
mind.  Go  look  at  his  Shakspeare  head,  and  draw 
him  out  on  the  Sonnets.  He's  a  rare  talker,  and 
always  has  time  and  will  to  entertain  a  friend." 

"  I  should  think  he'd  be  in  demand  socially,  with 
his  face,  and  celebrity,  and  attainments,  and  pe- 
culiar charm  of  manner  —  at  lion-hunting  houses, 
you  know." 

"  They  couldn't  get  him  if  they  tried,  and 
they've  forgotten  his  existence,  if  they  ever  knew 
of  it.  He's  out  of  date,  as  I  told  you." 

"  Has  he  lost  his  skill?  He  doesn't  look  it,  nor 
talk  as  if  he  were  failing." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  but  he's  lost  his  prestige  some- 
how. He's  his  own  man,  and  holds  to  his  own 
ideas,  which  is  not  the  way  to  be  a  favorite.  His 
success  was  won  by  original  talent,  and  lost  by 
original  character  —  independence.  The  stream 
has  flowed  past  him,  and  he  doesn't  care.  He's 
been  everywhere  in  his  day,  and  known  everybody  ; 
now  he's  done  with  life,  in  some  respects.  Except 
for  a  few  visitors,  and  these  younger  brothers  of 
the  craft  he  meets  at  dinner,  he  lives  like  a 
hermit." 


2/O  At  Dinner  with  Mr.  Leaf. 

"  \yhat  you  say  sounds  like  a  virulent  satire 
—  not  on  him,  but  on  a  community  that  could 
neglect  him  and  let  him  drop  out  of  sight." 

"  Very  likely :  such  is  life  in  New  York,  and 
I  judge  elsewhere  too." 

"  But  I  thought  if  you  once  made  a  success,  it 
would  last  —  as  long  as  you  deserved  it." 

"  Not  much.  You've  got  to  keep  on  making  it ; 
to  study  the  arts  of  pleasing  and  advertising,  and 
keep  yourself  right  with  the  public.  You  should 
hear  Flanigan  talk ;  he  says  most  of  what  sells  is 
not  art  at  all,  but  junk,  and  he'd  rather  go  out 
whitewashing,  or  borrow  of  everybody  he  knows 
(which  he  does,  by  the  way,  and  never  pays),  than 
conform  to  prevailing  canons.  A  man  may  begin 
right,  as  Leaf  did,  and  make  a  hit ;  then  presently 
they  want  him  to  caricature  himself,  which  Leaf 
wouldn't  do,  and  drop  him  because  he  wont.  To 
real  men,  oftener  than  to  shams,  success  comes  by 
caprice,  and  goes  the  same  way  :  the  sham  can 
generally  hold  it  when  he's  once  got  it.  Leaf 
might  as  well  have  died  ten  years  ago.  I  care 
for  few,  but  he'd  be  one  if  there  were  no  other. 
When  I  go  anywhere  I  go  to  see  him.  If  you're 
bashful  about  it  I'll  take  you,  late  some  night. 
Here's  my  corner,  and  there  are  other  things  I 
want  to  talk  to  you  about.  Come  round  at  nine, 
or  say  half-past,  will  you  ?  " 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

BUSINESS    SECRETS. 

WHEN  they  were  again  seated  on  the  little  bal- 
cony, Mr.  Prance  said  with  a  guilty  air,  "  You 
wouldn't  have  expected  it  of  me,  nor  I  either,  but 
I've  actually  looked  over  those  things  you  picked 
out  of  the  dust-heap  —  the  ones  you  were  sure 
about.  I  wanted  to  see  what  your  judgment  was 
worth  ;  and  by  George,  it's  sound.  That  stuff 
will  go  in — sooner  or  later,  somewhere  or  other, 
and  the  writers'  names  are  ticketed  on  our  white 
list.  I've  kept  the  addresses  for  you,  in  case  you 
should  want  to  be  remembered  in  their  prayers. 
Two  of  them  were  never  heard  of  before,  and  one 
is  a  man  who  has  long  been  trying,  without  success 
till  now ;  very  likely,  as  you  say,  because  he  had 
no  chance.  So  you  may  have  laid  the  foundation 
of  their  fortunes.  But  what's  more  to  the  purpose 
is  this ;  I've  seen  Perkins,  and  you're  out  of  that 
scrape  —  though  it  was  a  near  thing,  and  you 
mustn't  get  into  another.  I've  talked  with  Lybert 
too,  and  told  them  both  that  you  have  what  is 


272  Business  Secrets. 

rather  uncommon,  a  good  nose  —  the  power  of 
really  sifting  MSS.,  and  an  instinct  for  what's 
worth  preserving  ;  and  that  if  they  should  ever 
want  to  modify  our  system,  and  institute  a  more 
careful  examination  of  what  comes  in  from  un- 
privileged quarters,  you  might  be  valuable.  At 
first  they  hooted  at  the  idea ;  then  after  awhile 
they  admitted  that  it  might  possibly  be  worth 
considering  as  among  the  contingencies  of  the 
remote  future.  So  you're  comparatively  in  their 
good  books ;  though  I  don't  want  you  to  touch 
Jones'  work  again,  if  it  can  be  avoided  —  not  as 
things  are  now.  And  you  needn't  think  what  I 
said  to  you  the  other  night  was  all  gammon,  for 
most  of  it  was  true,  and  sounder  than  advice  gen- 
erally is.  Coming  in  lately  from  outside,  you 
might  take  it  as  the  mere  ex  parte  opinion  of  an 
old  fogy  who  knew  nothing  outside  the  shop." 

"  I'm  not  quite  such  a  fool  as  that,  Mr.  Prance. 
I  defer  to  your  ability  and  infinitely  greater  expe- 
rience, of  course.  I  appreciate  your  kindness,  and 
the  obvious  weight  of  sincerity  in  most  things  you 
say  —  except  when  you  amuse  yourself  with  guy- 
ing a  new  hand." 

"  What  I  said  then  had  as  much  truth  in  it  as 
the  rest,  if  you  knew  how  to  take  it.  I  never  talk 
seriously  to  a  man  till  I've  sized  him  up.  Respect 
for  one's  elders  is  so  nearly  one  of  the  lost  arts 
that  I'm  agreeably  surprised  when  I  meet  it,  and 
perhaps  this  has  put  me  off  my  base  in  your 


Business  Secrets.  273 

favor.  Well,  you're  not  to  have  Jones'  place  now ; 
the  office  would  have  to  be  revolutionized  to  make 
it  worth  your  while,  and  that  will  hardly  occur  in 
my  time.  But  you  may  be  called  in  as  a  Reader, 
to  go  through  stuff  offered  for  publication  in  per- 
manent form." 

"  So  that  is  considered  higher  work  than  hand- 
ling the  shorter  contributions  ?  " 

"  Yes,  for  these  are  meant  to  be  really  looked  at 
more  or  less  —  sometimes,  at  any  rate.  A  book  is 
supposed  to  be  a  bigger  thing  than  a  magazine 
article,  though  it  finds  fewer  readers  in  almost 
every  case,  and  in  four  out  of  five  doesn't  pay 
expenses." 

"  I  don't  see  how  publishers  make  money  then. 
Who  bears  the  loss  ?  " 

"The  author, if  the  house  is  sharp,  and  its  Reader 
has  made  the  right  report.  Who  do  you  suppose 
pays  for  all  these  volumes  of  verse,  for  instance  ? 
A  young  fellow  came  in  from  the  woods  shortly 
before  you  arrived,  to  see  about  his  first  venture. 
'  How  many  copies  of  these  do  you  want  struck 
off  ? '  we  asked  him.  '  I  don't  know  ;  about  fifteen 
hundred  would  do,  I  fancy,'  says  he.  'Better  say 
a  hundred  and  fifty,'  says  the  firm;  'that'll  be 
plenty  for  you  and  your  friends,  and  the  few  critics 
who  care  to  cut  you  up,  and  leave  some  for  the 
mill.  You  don't  want  to  sink  over  two  hundred 
dollars  on  this  foolishness,  do  you  ? '  You  see 
Lybert  doesn't  care  for  that  kind  of  business; 


274  Business  Secrets. 

there's  no  great  profit  in  it,  and  no  credit  at  all  — 
it  makes  him  look  like  a  mere  manufacturer.  The 
houses  of  highest  tone  profess  to  eschew  this  line 
of  operations,  and  accept  nothing  not  specially 
approved,  even  at  the  writer's  risk ;  though  most 
of  the  learned  and  technical  books,  and  lots  of 
which  you  wouldn't  think  it,  really  come  out  on 
those  terms." 

"Then  one  has  to  pay  for  the  privilege  of 
putting  the  fruit  of  his  researches,  or  his  imagin- 
ings, before  the  world  ?  " 

"Of  course;  how  else?  —  unless  his  name,  or 
his  subject,  or  his  handling  of  it,  or  all  together, 
are  sure  to  sell  largely,  which  can  seldom  be. 
Bookmaking  has  grown  so  out  of  bounds  that  it 
has  come  to  be  a  bore  and  a  nuisance  and  a  pest. 
Poetry's  a  mere  drug,  which  nobody  wants  to  take. 
You  remember  the  old  saw,  — 

'  Swans  sing  before  they  die ;  'twere  no  bad  thing 
Did  certain  persons  die  before  they  sing.' 

Well,  that's  nearly  all  of  them  ;  and  prose  is  not 
much  better.  I  can't  see  what  Job  and  Solomon 
knew  about  it,  but  our  enemies  are  making  books 
forever  and  without  end.  In  fact,  writers  as  a 
class  are  the  foes  of  mankind,  and  will  soon  be  so 
regarded." 

By  this  time  Dick  knew  the  old  gentleman  well 
enough  to  take  some  moderate  liberties.  "And 
yet  you  get  your  living  by  them,  Mr.  Prance." 


Business  Secrets.  275 

"  As  the  policeman  does  by  the  criminal  classes  ; 
that's  all.  I  get  my  living  by  standing  guard 
against  their  encroachments,  and  protecting  the 
community  from  them  as  far  as  possible." 

"I  don't  believe  the  writers  generally  under- 
stand this,  nor  the  public.  They  think  the  gov- 
erning idea  of  the  literary  market  is  free  trade, 
including  not  only  pirated  reprints,  but  every  fel- 
low's having  his  own  chance.  By  what  you  say, 
it's  severe  protection,  with  a  strong  leaning  to 
monopolies.  It  looks  as  if  we  and  the  few  scores 
or  hundreds  whom  we  print  made  a  close  corpora- 
tion, determined  to  exclude  competitors,  and  keep 
the  supply  just  what  it  is." 

"  That's  the  case  exactly,  Grafton,  except  that 
the  supply  is  always  increasing  perforce,  and  it's 
our  business  to  prevent  its  increasing  too  fast. 
Writers  die  and  go  to  their  reward,  and  their  works 
do  follow  them  —  if  they  haven't  gone  before. 
Books  that  were  popular  yesterday  are  out  of  date 
and  demand  to-morrow,  but  far  too  many  come  in 
their  place :  we  stand  in  the  way,  and  put  on  pro- 
hibitory duties,  or  as  near  as  may  be.  When  you 
come  to  be  a  Reader,  remember  that  you're  in  the 
custom-house  to  prevent  smuggling.  I  hope  you 
have  no  yearnings  toward  authorship  ?" 

"  Not  after  what  you  tell  me.  Perhaps  I  had,  in 
a  vague  way,  at  one  time  ;  but  if  they  were  not 
dead  before  now,  they  would  hardly  survive  these 
admonitions." 


276  Business  Secrets. 

"  They  would  be  the  ruin  of  you ;  Grafton  if 
such  desires  ever  rise  again,  tear  them  out  by  the 
roots  and  fling  them  far  from  you.  Take  me  for 
a  warning,  if  you  will :  I've  borne  a  share  in  the 
guilt  and  in  the  punishment.  It's  a  painful  sub- 
ject, but  long  ago  I  wrote  several  books,  and  I've 
never  recovered  from  the  effects.  It  gives  a  fatally 
wrong  direction  to  one's  mind.  It's  a  bad  thing 
to  be  mixed  up  with  literature  at  all,  even  as  we 
are,  in  this  comparatively  useful  way  of  warding 
off  inflictions  from  the  public.  If  we  had  not  taken 
the  itch,  though  in  this  modified  form,  we  might 
have  come  to  some  good  end,  in  soap,  or  stocks, 
or  salt  fish,  or  boots  and  shoes.  You  needn't 
smile,  my  poor  young  friend ;  if  you've  not  learned 
your  lesson  yet,  you  will  in  time.  Do  you  think 
even  Lybert  is  happy  ?  No,  sir.  True,  he's  made 
near  a  million  ;  but  he  sees  others  who  began  at 
the  same  time  and  went  into  something  really 
necessary  to  the  welfare  of  mankind,  such  as 
whiskey,  or  tobacco,  or  Wall  Street,  or  explosive 
compounds,  and  are  now  worth  ten  times  as  much. 
No,  in  his  heart  he's  not  content  with  the  book 
trade." 

"You  may  gibe  at  our  betters,  Mr.  Prance,  if 
you  like ;  but  don't  try  to  persuade  me  that  you 
think  moneymaking  the  end  of  man,  for  I  know 
better." 

"  Yes,  youth  is  always  self-confident  and  bump- 
tious, but  age  is  cautious  and  doubtful.  I'm  sure 


Business  Secrets.  277 

I  don't  know  what  the  end  of  man  is ;  do  you  ? 
But  they  don't  pay  us  for  our  opinions — except 
when  we  have  to  sit  in  judgment  on  a  manuscript, 
which,  as  I  said,  is  a  bad  business." 


CHAPTER     XXXV. 

BOOKS,    'READERS,'    AND    WRITERS. 

DICK  began  to  doubt  whether  such  instructions 
as  the  veteran  might  deliver  in  his  present  mood 
were  to  be  taken  literally ;  these  utterances,  how- 
ever improving,  were  not  strictly  to  the  point. 
"  Still,  you  say  that  is  likely  to  be  my  business  to 
some  extent.  How  shall  I  go  about  it  ? " 

"The  first  thing  is  to  settle  what  not  to  do; 
that  is  always  the  most  important.  I've  been 
trying  to  impress  on  you  the  necessity  of  writing 
nothing  (except  in  a  small  way  as  called  for)  and 
avoiding  all  literary  acquaintance.  If  you  attempt 
to  ring  in  your  own  productions  or  those  of  your 
friends,  you  will  soon  be  under  the  ban :  even 
Perkins  has  to  be  careful  about  that.  Confine 
yourself  absolutely  to  MSS.  committed  to  you  at 
the  shop  in  the  regular  way,  and  don't  dream  of 
increasing  the  number." 

"That,  of  course.  I  presume  they  wouldn't 
give  me  anything  in  divinity,  or  the  fine  arts,  or 
other  fields  I'm  not  familiar  with  ?  " 


Books,  'Readers?  and  Writers.  279 

"  Why  not  ?  You  could  tell  how  they  were 
likely  to  impress  the  general  public.  You  know 
Jerrold  said  he  never  read  a  book  before  reviewing 
it,  it  prejudiced  him  so.  The  same  truth  applies 
to  a  too  minute  or  profound  knowledge  of  a  sub- 
ject at  large.  School  books,  and  treatises  on 
pyrotechnics  and  perfumery,  when  examined  at 
all,  might  go  to  an  expert.  But  in  what  will  be 
apt  to  come  to  you  chiefly,  cases  in  which  you 
have  to  judge  not  of  alleged  facts,  but  simply  of 
thought  and  style,  your  trouble  will  be  the  other 
way,  from  excess,  not  defect." 

"  In  me  ?     How  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  You're  not  sufficiently  woodenheaded.  You'll 
be  looking  for  merits,  when  you're  wanted  to  find 
defects.  You'll  not  be  easily  able  to  get  Gold- 
smith's maxim  out  of  your  head,  that  life  and  not 
blamelessness  is  the  desideratum.  We  don't  go 
by  that.  A  thing  may  be  full  of  juice,  and  yet  not 
suited  to  us  at  all  ;  whereas  if  it's  simply  strong 
and  original,  you'd  be  apt  to  recommend  it." 

"Why,  certainly.  We  want  strength  and  orig- 
inality, don't  we  ? " 

"  Not  if  they  have  the  defects  of  their  qualities, 
as  they  usually  will.  We  want  Propriety.  It 
matters  comparatively  little  about  stimulating 
thought  or  rousing  emotion,  provided  we  print 
nothing  to  start  a  blush  on  the  cheek  of  innocence, 
or  disturb  the  conventional  calm  of  accepted  stan- 
dards. Successful  preachers,  you  know,  pick  out 


280  Books,  '  Readers  1  and   Writers. 

the  dullest  man  in  the  audience,  and  aim  their 
discourse  at  him :  those  who  knew  something 
before  they  came,  and  haven't  patience  to  hear  the 
rudiments  laid  level  to  the  meanest  apprehension, 
can  go  home  —  they  are  but  a  small  minority. 
The  average  mind  is  commonplace  :  a  writer  who 
would  be  popular  must  address  that,  and  a  Reader 
must  see  that  he  does." 

"But  this  would  exclude  our  best,  as  Cravatton, 
and  Jacobs,  and  Miss  Lambson,  and  Mrs.  Firett. 
They  did  not  make  their  way  by  commonplace 
dulness :  either  in  style  or  situations,  in  narrative 
or  analysis,  they  give  us  something  new,  and 
freely  handled.  So  did  the  great  masters  of  the 
last  generation  ;  so  —  " 

"  O  yes,  of  course.  You're  talking  of  those 
already  known  ;  they  can  do  what  they  please,  and 
their  books  don't  come  to  you  for  approval.  I 
speak  of  new  writers,  whose  effort  to  cross  the 
line  is  an  intrusion  to  be  resented.  That  makes 
all  the  difference  in  the  world.  They've  not  estab- 
lished their  right  to  be  heard,  and  the  presumption 
is  against  them.  So,  when  you  once  get  your 
hand  in,  you  will  bring  to  their  pages  a  weary  and 
reluctant  mind,  corresponding  to  that  of  the  jaded 
critic  or  the  fatigued  though  unprofessional  wader 
through  ten  novels  a  week  ;  that's  the  right  point 
of  view.  You're  dealing  with  trespassers,  remem- 
ber :  if  they  attempt  to  be  funny,  they  are  vulgar ; 
if  they  pretend  to  individuality,  that  is  also  an 


Books,  '  Readers •,'  and   Writers.  281 

impertinence.  As  mere  beginners  their  duty  is  to 
respect  precedents  and  follow  the  beaten  paths  in 
serious  humility.  It  wont  do  for  you  to  report 
favorably  on  anything  that  is  not  imitatively  cus- 
tomary and  decorously  conservative.  Nothing  is 
more  offensive  than  a  striving  after  originality, 
and  nothing  more  tiresome  than  mechanical  and 
perfunctory  humor." 

"  But  suppose  the  humor  is  natural  and  the 
originality  genuine  ?  What  right  have  I  to  stick 
to  a  rigid  assumption  of  the  contrary  ?  " 

"  You  must  assume  it :  it's  a  priori  probable, 
and  will  in  most  cases  be  true.  The  favorable 
supposition  is  against  the  doctrine  of  chances,  and 
the  whole  body  of  our  rules  and  precedents.  All 
we  expect  of  a  first  novel  is  to  tell  us  when  and 
where  John  Henry  Jackson  was  born,  the  color  of 
his  hair  and  eyes,  and  the  details  of  his  adventures 
in  love,  war,  and  politics,  with  his  ultimate  suc- 
cess in  unmasking  the  villain  and  discovering  his 
grandfather's  will.  Let  this  be  set  forth  in  good 
plain  English,  such  as  is  taught  in  any  of  our 
colleges  and  academies,  with  no  rude  obtrusion  of 
his  own  ideas  on  the  writer's  part.  Should  he 
succeed,  he  can  sprinkle  these  over  his  later  works 
without  irreverence  ;  we'll  bear  them  then." 

"  But  I  might  reject  a  book  which  takes  a  line 
of  its  own,  and  so  fails  to  conform  to  this  very 
moderate  standard,  and  then  some  other  house 
risks  it,  and  it  makes  a  marked  success.  What 
then?" 


282  Books,  'Readers?  and   Writers. 

"  That  doesn't  matter :  the  firm  wont  recollect 
that  it  was  offered  to  them,  and  you  needn't  tell. 
Practically  you  are  always  safe  in  rejecting ;  in 
accepting  the  danger  lies.  Never  forget  that  you 
are  set  to  guard  the  firm  against  losses,  and  the 
public,  in  some  small  degree,  against  the  waste  of 
its  precious  time." 

"  But  how  can  I  tell  whether  a  book  will  sell  or 
not  ?  You  say  yourself  that  it  is  all  guesswork. 
The  only  point  I  can  pronounce  upon  is  intrinsic 
merit,  literary  character.  Some  books  don't  suc- 
ceed that  ought  to,  and  vice  versa" 

"  Make  your  report  according  to  what  you  find 
—  on  the  lines  just  indicated;  and  in  a  case  of 
doubt  (which  is  almost  always,  except  with  a  mar- 
ketable reputation,  and  that  doesn't  concern  you) 
advise  publication,  if  at  all,  at  the  author's  risk. 
He  seldom  has  any  money,  so  it  comes  to  the  same 
thing.  When  you  reject,  write  him  a  few  civil 
lines  in  the  firm's  name,  saying  that  his  work  has 
merit  but  is  not  quite  in  our  line,  and  you  would 
advise  his  sending  it  to  the  Sunday  School  Union  ; 
or  that  the  story  is  rather  too  slight,  and  you 
regret  your  inability  to  persuade  yourselves  that  it 
is  expedient  to  put  it  in  cold  type  before  a  callous 
world  ;  or  that  in  the  present  terribly  depressed 
condition  of  the  fiction  market  the  counsel  of  your 
literary  advisers  (that's  you)  is  adverse  to  the 
probability  of  securing  for  the  book  such  favorable 
attention  from  the  critics  and  the  public  as  you 


Books,  'Readers'  and  Writers.          283 

consider  important  for  a  volume  bearing  your 
(that's  our)  imprint.  You  can  enlarge  on  the 
injury  done  to  home  literature  by  cheap  reprints  ; 
that's  perfectly  true.  And  always  sling  in  a  little 
style  on  these  occasions  ;  it  shows  'em  that  we  can 
write,  whether  they  can  or  not." 

"  All  this  is  very  hard  on  the  young  authors,  I 
must  say  :  they  seem  to  be  friendless  and  defence- 
less. Is  there  no  brotherly  feeling  among  the 
guild  ? " 

"There  used  to  be,  when  writers  were  compara- 
tively few  and  life  less  rapid ;  but  now  the  profes- 
sion's crowded,  the  pace  stiff,  and  it's  each  for 
himself  and  the  devil  take  the  hindmost.  Any 
fraternity  has  to  guard  its  doors  and  keep  out  the 
riffraff ;  and  you  know  what  human  nature  is.  If 
you  and  I  got  into  the  car  at  the  last  crossing,  we 
grudge  to  make  room  for  those  who  enter  at  the 
next ;  if  we're  off  for  the  summer  and  registered 
yesterday,  we  look  down  on  to-day's  arrivals  and 
feel  that  they  have  no  business  to  be  so  close  on 
our  heels.  Why  can't  they  stay  at  home  or  go 
somewhere  else,  and  let  us  have  a  good  quiet 
time  ?  At  least  they  needn't  expect  us  to  show 
them  around,  and  point  out  the  paths  and  views, 
and  explain  the  rules  of  the  place ;  let  them  find 
out  for  themselves,  as  we  did.  You  see  there's  a 
strong  and  general  impression  that  the  hotel,  or 
the  conveyance,  or  whatever  it  may  be,  is  full,  and 
in  this  case  it's  only  too  well  founded.  Litera- 


284  Books,   'Readers?  and   Writers. 

ture's  a  trade  like  anything  else.  A  successful 
author  must  be  methodical  to  get  through  his 
work,  and  his  time's  worth  so  much  an  hour  ;  he 
can't  waste  it  on  poor  scrubs  who  want  to  be 
taught,  first  how  to  write,  and  then  how  to  sell 
their  scribblings.  Most  of  these  aspirants  are 
lame  ducks  anyway,  and  it's  best  to  regard  them 
all  as  such  till  one  out  of  a  thousand  has  proved 
himself  an  exception." 

"You  don't  hold  this  hidebound  selfishness 
essential  to  success,  do  you  ? " 

"  I  hold  that  one  may  break  his  heart  over 
other's  woes,  or  starve  himself  to  feed  the  hungry, 
and  get  small  thanks  for  it  in  this  world  ;  how  it 
is  in  the  next  I  can't  say,  never  having  been  there. 
Charity  must  be  organized  to  be  effective.  If  I 
were  to  go  into  philanthropy  I  should  want  to  be 
paid  for  it. 

"  And  yet  you  are  taking  some  pains  to  post  me, 
and  keep  me  out  of  scrapes,  and  get  me  started 
right." 

"We  were  talking  of  authors;  I'm  out  of  that 
branch  since  the  fifties,  and  if  you  go  into  it  I'll 
disown  you.  But  you  needn't  suspect  me  of  dis- 
interestedness. I  like  to  hear  myself  talk,  after 
nine  p.  M.,  and  you're  a  good  listener.  Then 
when  my  daughter's  away  so  long  I  get  lonesome, 
and  you're  much  the  same  sort  of  innocent  donkey 
that  I  was  at  your  age.  Besides,  you  may  be  of 
use  some  day  ;  any  good  you  get  by  me  I  expect 
to  take  out  of  you  with  inte  rest." 


Books,  '  Readers?  and   Writers.  285 

"  I  hope  you  will.  You  speak  of  the  old  days 
when  beginners  found  some  sympathy  and  en- 
couragement. Was  that  in  Willis'  time  ?  " 

"  Nat  had  a  mania  for  playing  godfather.  He 
was  wild  to  catch  recruits,  bring  them  to  the  front, 
and  predict  their  coming  greatness  —  so  long  as 
they  weren't  his  sister  Sara.  He  had  a  good  eye 
for  points  too ;  he  would  have  been  the  chief  for 
you,  and  you  the  lieutenant  for  him.  Poor  Nat, 
he's  forgotten  already,  or  remembered  only  as  a 
worse  fellow  than  he  was.  Bayard  Taylor  was 
another  with  a  heart  open  to  all  comers,  corre- 
sponding with  every  small  poet  in  the  land ;  if 
he'd  had  a  paper  of  his  own,  he  might  have  been 
a  better  duenna  even  than  Willis.  These  two 
burned  the  candle  at  both  ends,  and  died  in  their 
prime,  when  meaner  men  could  have  lived  in  peace 
to  eighty.  Too  much  heart !  Taylor  spent  him- 
self on  others  ;  it  doesn't  pay.  Ever  hear  what  a 
certain  statesman  said  of  him  ?  '  Nothing  in  him, 
positively  nothing.'  Such  is  fame.  We're  wiser 
now  ;  we  look  to  number  one,  and  save  up  health 
and  dollars.  Remember  that,  youngster,  and  be  a 
man  of  your  own  era." 

Mr.  Prance's  countenance  was  nearly  as  grim 
as  his  monitions  ;  but  Dick  suspected  an  ironic 
vein,  and  taking  them  cum  grano,  was  less  dis- 
mayed by  this  definition  of  his  duties  than  he 
might  have  been  a  week  before. 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

MISS    LOUISE. 

• 

BUT  for  his  new  friend's  advice,  it  is  doubtful 
whether  Grafton  could  have  held  his  place  three 
months ;  at  least  that  was  his  matured  opinion 
later.  Thanks  to  the  hints  and  guidance  of  one 
who  had  been  long  behind  the  scenes,  and  grown 
from  something  near  enough  for  sympathy  to 
what  Dick  was  into  that  in  substance  which  Dick 
now  saw  he  must  become,  he  managed  to  steer 
between  the  Scylla  of  his  preconceived  notions 
and  the  Charybdis  of  mundane  demoralization  and 
unmitigated  practicality.  He  became  an  expert 
in  inspecting  MSS.  as  well  as  a  dextrous  trimmer 
of  notices  and  literary  items  :  not  more  than  once 
did  Mr.  Perkins  need  to  say,  "  This  is  too  long, 
Mr.  Grafton.  We  do  not  require  so  much  elabo- 
ration :  just  the  main  points,  hit  off  incisively,  so 
that  he  who  runs  may  read ;  with  snap,  you  know, 
and  a  little  flourish."  The  accomplished  editor- 
in-chief  (for  if  this  awful  function  did  not  belong 
to  Mr.  Perkins,  then  whose  was  it  ?)  relaxed  the 


Miss  Louise.  287 

languid  remoteness  of  his  manner,  and  grew 
almost  confidential ;  it  was  understood  that  the 
recruit  had  passed  his  entrance  examinations,  and 
could  be  trusted  at  least  a  yard  or  two  out  of 
sight.  That  he  was  in  love  with  his  duties  would 
be  too  much  to  say,  but  he  knew  they  suited  him 
better  probably  than  any  others  within  his  reach  : 
he  had  put  his  hand  to  the  plough,  and  admitted 
no  thought  of  turning  back.  Developing  under 
pressure  the  faculty  of  rapid  and  methodical  labor, 
he  was  able  to  increase  his  tasks,  and  with  them 
his  earnings :  in  time  he  was  inducted  at  the 
Battle-Axe  office,  and  assumed  some  minor  occu- 
pations there.  But  this  is  anticipating. 

Throughout  that  first  summer  he  saw  much  of 
Mr.  Prance,  and  often  dined  with  the  veteran  and 
his  artist  friends.  He  spent  more  than  one  leisure 
hour  in  the  studios,  and  listened  to  Mr.  Leaf's 
laudations  of  the  Shakspeare  Sonnets  and  dia- 
tribes against  the  hermetic  interpretation  thereof. 
The  talk  of  the  younger  painters  refreshed  his 
home  and  foreign  geography  ;  he  drank  in  Flani- 
gan's  vituperative  comments  on  contemporary 
art,  and  went  home  poorer  by  the  price  of  the 
satirist's  next  breakfast. 

Among  these  acquaintances  he  learned  some- 
thing of  Mr.  Prance's  past.  "That  man  has  a 
history,"  they  stated,  "  though  he  wont  talk  about 
it."  He  had  begun  with  what  were  considered 
brilliant  talents  and  prospects ;  had  travelled 


288  Miss  Louise. 

abroad,  married  early,  and  put  forth  a  volume  of 
verse,  a  novel,  and  some  essays  which  made  a 
noise  in  their  day.  "  You'll  find  them  mentioned 
in  the  cyclopaedias  and  histories,"  said  Mr.  Leaf, 
"  but  they're  long  out  of  print.  He  might  as 
well  have  died  twenty  years  ago  :  he  and  I  are 
fossils,  survivals  of  the  unfittest.  He's  taken 
life  harder  than  I ;  he  looks  over  sixty,  and  he's 
scarcely  fifty-five.  There  was  good  stuff  in  his 
books,  but  luck  was  against  him."  A  course 
of  luxurious  and  hospitable  living  was  cut  short 
by  the  total  loss  of  his  property,  through  the 
dishonesty  or  carelessness  of  agents  whom  he 
trusted  and  friends  for  whom  he  had  endorsed  ; 
the  death  of  two  children  was  followed  by  that 
of  his  wife,  and  at  thirty-six  he  was  left  with  an 
infant  daughter.  "  But  for  her  he  would  have  gone 
to  the  dogs  or  underground,  I  believe  ;  only  that 
responsibility  kept  him  up.  If  I  had  had  his  load 
to  carry  I  should  have  fallen  beneath  it.  There 
are  things  nearer  than  money,  that  are  harder  to 
lose."  So  he  had  taken  shelter  in  the  outworks 
of  literature,  and  lived  ever  since  by  labors  more 
or  less  editorial.  "  You  can't  call  him  a  hack,  his 
leaders  are  too  strong  for  that ;  but  he  does  them 
as  he  might  lay  pavement  or  cobble  shoes."  They 
had  no  relatives  but  some  remote  cousins  on  a 
New  Hampshire  farm,  to  whom  the  daughter  was 
always  sent  in  summer.  "  She  wouldn't  leave 
her  father  but  that  he  insists :  however  little 


Miss  Louise.  289 

might  come  in,  he  has  put  by  a  hundred  every 
year  since  she  was  eight  to  get  her  away  from 
town  in  July  and  August.  She's  a  nice  quiet 
girl,  but  it's  a  narrow  life,  and  very  different  from 
what  he  would  like  for  her.  It's  this  contrast 
with  the  past  that  makes  him  gruff,  but  he's  gold 
inside  —  his  sort  stands  the  fire.  A  generation 
ago  there  was  no  more  gallant  and  jovial  fellow 
in  New  York  than  he.  They  used  to  entertain 
magnificently :  it  was  one  of  the  best  houses. 
Popular  was  no  name  for  him  ;  but  after  the 
crash  he  hid  from  sight,  and  of  course  was  soon 
forgotten." 

The  old  artist's  beautiful  eyes  were  moist. 
"  Well,  well,  he's  borne  up  under  it,  and  there's  no 
need  for  us  to  break  down.  I'm  glad  he's  taken 
this  fancy  to  you  ;  he  leads  far  too  solitary  a  life." 

Dick  had  a  Chinese  reverence  for  age,  and  the 
spectacle  of  these  graybeards  summing  each  other 
up  in  almost  the  same  terms  struck  him  as  pa- 
thetic rather  than  humorous. 

One  evening  in  early  September  he  mounted 
to  the  second  floor  on  East  Sixteenth  Street, 
where  he  knew  himself  a  welcome  visitor.  For 
once  his  host  was  not  alone  ;  a  slight  fair  girl 
answered  to  his  knock.  He  noticed  her  no  more 
than  courtesy  required,  found  an  errand  in  some 
circumstance  of  his  work,  and  cut  short  his  call 
with  an  apology  for  disturbing  the  reunion  of 
parent  and  child.  He  was  not  in  the  humor  for 


290  Miss  Louise. 

feminine  society  then,  and  possibly  had  as  much 
of  it  as  he  cared  for  in  his  half  compulsory  Sun- 
days at  Oaklands.  For  the  next  week  or  two  he 
avoided  Mr.  Prance's  rooms,  and  when  he  went 
again,  the  girl  presently  arose  and  withdrew. 
This  coldness  between  the  young  people  seemed 
to  oppress  the  older  man,  but  his  invitations  were 
not  urgent,  and  Dick  remembered  how  jealously 
he  guarded  his  daughter. 

At  last,  on  a  lovely  October  night,  goaded  by 
the  fear  of  seeming  ungrateful  and  neglectful,  he 
sallied  forth,  and  was  discomfited  at  finding  Miss 
Louise  alone  in  the  den.  "Father  is  out,  for  a 
wonder,"  she  said,  "but  he'll  be  back  soon.  No; 
sit  down,  please,"  for  Dick  was  nervously  saying 
that  his  business  was  not  pressing,  and  he  would 
not  intrude  ;  "  he  wants  to  see  you,  I  know,  and 
—  and  I  want  to  talk  to  you  a  little." 

She  blushed,  and  he  was  conscious  of  some 
alarm  :  he  was  not  much  accustomed  to  young 
ladies,  and  his  attitude  toward  this  one  was  com- 
plicated by  his  relations  with  her  father.  Yet 
there  could  be  no  great  danger  in  that  ingenuous 
face,  that  rippling  light-brown  hair,  those  honest 
blue  eyes  timidly  raised  to  his.  I  am  not  going 
to  describe  Miss  Prance  any  further :  she  was 
well  enough,  but  nothing  to  look  at  beside  —  or 
after  —  Edith  De  Grout. 

"Mr.  Grafton,"  she  went  on,  "  I'm  afraid  I  have 
driven  you  away." 


Miss  Louise. 


291 


"O  no,"  he  stammered,  "not  at  all.  But  the 
last  time  I  was  here  I  seemed  to  drive  you  away." 

"  I  didn't  want  to  disturb  you.  But  the  time 
before  that  —  the  first  time,  you  remember — you 
went  away  almost  as  soon  as  you  came  in  ;  and 
you  know  you  would  have  stayed  till  eleven  or 
twelve  if  I  hadn't  been  here." 

"  That's  not  so  certain,"  Dick  answered  more 
confidently,  "for  sometimes  your  father  sends 
me  off  by  ten,  when  he's  very  tired  ;  and  that 
time  I  knew  he  wanted  to  see  you." 

"And  this  time  I  know  he  wants  to  see  you, 
as  I  told  you.  He  has  so  few  friends  —  that  is, 
so  few  that  he  cares  about  and  likes  to  have  come. 
I  never  stay  in  here  when  it  will  interfere  with 
his  visitors,  and  you're  almost  the  only  one.  I'll 
go  away  now  if  you'll  promise  to  wait  for  him." 

"  O,  that  wont  do  at  all  ;  I  couldn't  think  of  it. 
But  you  see,  Miss  Prance,  I  know  your  father's 
very  particular  about  you,  and  doesn't  like  to  have 
everybody  coming  here  ;  and  as  a  stranger  — 

"  But  you're  not  a  stranger ,-  as  if  I  didn't  know 
all  about  you,  from  his  letters  through  the  sum- 
mer !  He  writes  me  regularly  twice  a  week,  you 
know,  when  I'm  away.  And  you're  not  every- 
body, but  somebody  very  particular,  and  not  at 
all  fond  of  ladies  ;  so  I  couldn't  blame  you,  though 
I  did  want  to  see  you  and  explain  that  you  must 
come  here  just  the  same,  and  I  would  try  to  keep 
out  of  the  room." 


292  Miss  Louise. 

"  And  do  you  suppose  I  would  be  welcome  here 
when  I  drove  you  out  ?  No  ;  if  I  come  you  will 
have  to  go  on  just  as  if  I  were  not  here." 

"  O,  I  can  be  very  quiet,  and  not  interrupt ; 
and  I  do  love  to  hear  papa  talk.  But  if  I  come 
in  you  must  do  just  as  you  would  if  I  were  away." 

So  they  patched  up  a  modus  vivendi,  on  the 
basis  of  ignoring  each  other,  before  Mr.  Prance 
entered  —  he  being  in  the  mind  of  each  the  chief 
person  to  be  considered  ;  and  from  that  time  the 
conferences  on  literature  from  a  more  or  less 
mercantile  point  of  view  were  continued  in  pres- 
ence of  an  auditor,  but  with  no  great  disturbance 
from  that  cause.  Dick's  thoughts  did  not  run 
to  young  women,  and  this  one  was  sufficiently 
harmless.  Though  near  twenty  and  brought  up 
in  New  York,  she  knew  little  of  the  world  and 
its  wiles.  Her  father  had  managed  to  send  her 
to  private  schools,  and  she  had  acquired  a  toler- 
able taste  for  books ;  she  was  of  a  retiring  dispo- 
sition, and  happily  content  with  few  resources ; 
her  friends  and  her  amusements  were  far  from 
numerous.  How  a  girl  manages  to  get  through 
the  week,  in  almost  total  solitude  till  evening, 
with  only  her  limited  housekeeping  and  three 
rooms  and  her  father's  shelves  for  occupation, 
I  really  do  not  know.  No  doubt  there  are  thou- 
sands in  Babylon  as  narrowly  cooped  in  as  she, 
kept  by  instincts  and  traditions  from  mingling 
with  the  grossness  round  them,  and  hopelessly 


Miss  Louise.  293 

cut  off  from  society  either  extensive  or  select. 
Louise  had  at  least  her  father's  company  at  break- 
fast and  dinner  (he  never  sought  his  artist  friends 
and  the  Italian  restaurant  when  she  was  at  home) 
and  after  nine  P.M.  ;  and  while  he  wrote  she  could 
sit  in  the  den  and  sew  or  read.  For  two  months 
each  year  city  grime  and  dust  were  exchanged  for 
the  rural  sights  and  enlivening  breezes  of  a  moun- 
tain farm  ;  and  then  she  made  her  own  gowns  — 
a  practice  which  I  am  told  combines  enjoyable 
employment  with  economy,  for  any  young  person 
who  has  a  knack  that  way  and  not  much  cash 
to  spare.  Thus  fortified,  she  somehow  escaped 
devouring  ennui  and  desire  for  flirtations  with 
the  grocer's  boy  on  the  corner.  The  wind  is 
tempered  to  our  bareness,  and  Heaven  has  en- 
dowed the  more  helpless  sex  with  a  mighty  fund 
of  patience. 

In  time  Grafton  grew  reconciled  to  this  appen- 
dage to  his  Mentor,  and  came  to  regard  her  as  an 
inoffensive  fellow  creature  who  had  been  assigned 
some  small  supernumerary  part  on  the  by  no 
means  crowded  boards  of  his  unsensational  drama. 
It  even  occurred  to  him  to  contribute  mild  assuage- 
ments to  her  loneliness  now  and  then.  I  am  sure 
he  never  furnished  her  with  flowers  or  caramels, 
for  these  are  costly  luxuries  ;  but  sometimes  when 
he  had  tickets  from  the  Battle-Axe  he  would  take 
her  to  a  play  or  other  scene  of  delight,  and  the 
following  spring  they  might  be  observed  on  fine 


294  Miss  Louise. 

Sundays  in  the  Park,  or  at  Coney  Island  before 
the  crowd  began  to  go.  Mr.  Prance  viewed  these 
proceedings  with  tolerance,  rather  glad  that  the 
poor  child  should  have  some  little  entertainment, 
and  troubled  his  head  with  no  fear  of  the  conse- 
quences. He  was  not  addicted  to  playing  Provi- 
dence in  other  than  a  negative  way,  and  Grafton 
was  wholly  to  be  trusted  and  perfectly  ineligible. 


CHAPTER     XXXVII. 

EXIGENCIES    OF    LITERATURE. 

DICK'S  account  of  Mr.  Prance  aroused  my 
curiosity,  and  I  asked  him  to  introduce  me  at  the 
den.  The  sage  gave  a  reluctant  consent,  and 
sometimes,  when  my  wife  was  out  of  town,  I  was 
admitted  to  partake  the  feast  of  reason.  As  soon 
as  I  knew  the  old  gentleman  well  enough,  I  ven- 
tured to  compliment  him  on  his  influence  over  my 
friend.  "  You  have  done  him  all  the  good  in  the 
world  ;  really,  you  have  made  quite  a  little  man  of 
him.  He  always  needed  somebody  to  look  after 
him  and  keep  him  straight,  and  he  never  would 
listen  to  me,  because  I'm  not  much  older  than  he 
is." 

The  host  and  his  daughter  looked  as  if  they 
thought  that  my  advice  would  have  had  but  limited 
value  under  any  circumstances,  and  Dick  came  to 
my  assistance.  "  You  see,  Bob,  you  and  I  are 
very  differently  situated  ;  our  spheres  are  wide 
apart.  But  Mr.  Prance  and  myself  are  in  the  same 
line  of  business,  and  —  and  have  other  things  in 


296  Exigencies  of  Literature. 

common."  (He  meant  poverty,  but  it  was  not 
manners  to  say  so.)  "  So  he  has  kindly  given  me 
the  great  benefit  of  his  experience,  and  of  his  ex- 
ample. An  ounce  of  that,  you  know,  is  worth  a 
ton  of  mere  preaching  like  yours." 

"Yes,"  said  the  old  man,  "I  could  help  Grafton 
to  solve  some  of  his  problems,  because  I  had  done 
the  same  sums  for  myself  long  before.  There  was 
a  time  when  I  held  it  degradation  to  touch  any 
work  that  did  not  square  with  my  liking,  and  gave 
taste  and  temperament  the  name  of  principle.  I 
was  fastidious  and  self-indulgent,  and  must  do 
things  in  my  own  way  or  not  at  all." 

"That's  Grafton  to  a  T.,"  said  I.  "As  I've 
often  told  him,  laziness  was  his  trouble." 

"  O  no,"  said  the  young  lady ;  "  I'm  sure  he's 
not  lazy  at  all.  Why,  he  works  almost  as  hard  as 
you,  doesn't  he,  papa  ? " 

"  It  is  a  kind  of  laziness,"  her  father  resumed ; 
"not  precisely  either  intellectual  or  physical  indo- 
lence, but  allied  to  them  as  being  emotional  or 
moral  —  temperamental,  we  might  say.  As  such 
it  is  well  enough  for  the  dilettante  whose  nest 
is  feathered,  but  quite  incompatible  with  active 
exertion.  When  one  has  dinner  to  get  and  rent 
to  pay,  he  must  cast  his  finer  sense  and  sorer 
shame  aside,  as  Newman  says.  Necessity  is  the 
mother  not  only  of  useful  inventions  but  of  ethical 
discoveries.  I  found  I  could  do  without  a  throb 
things  of  which  the  bare  idea  would  have  been 


Exigencies  of  Literature.  297 

shocking  in  salad  days  —  if  it  had  been  con- 
ceivable then." 

"I'm  sure,  papa,"  the  girl  again  put  in,  "you 
never  did  anything  that  wasn't  honorable  and 
highminded." 

"  Highmindedness,  my  dear,  is  a  quality  not 
commended  in  Scripture,  which  speaks  reprovingly 
of 'traitors,  heady,  highminded,  lovers  of  pleasures,' 
and  so  on.  Perhaps  that's  what  I  was  before  you 
came,  omitting  the  element  of  treason.  We're  apt 
to  glorify  our  condition,  and  erect  our  pride  into 
a  virtue.  But  I  got  bravely  over  that.  One  year 
I  reported  the  meetings  of  Council,  and  the  next 
wrote  free  trade  arguments  for  one  paper,  and 
protectionist  for  another." 

"  You  did  ?  "  Grafton  exclaimed  ;  "  and  at  the 
same  time  ?  Wasn't  that  a  pill  to  take  ?  " 

"  If  so,  it  was  gilded,  and  the  coating  made 
it  palatable.  At  your  age,  I  felt  as  you  do  ;  now, 
I  justify  the  course,  and  would  pursue  it  again 
on  occasion.  It  all  depends  on  the  point  of  view, 
and  those  of  abstract  and  practical  morality  are 
quite  different.  Why  should  not  a  journalist  take 
either  side  at  will,  as  they  do  in  debating  societies 
and  at  the  bar  ?  You  ought  to  be  familiar  with 
that,  Grafton." 

"  Yes,  but  I  never  liked  it ;  it  didn't  seem 
right." 

"  He  never  would  take  a  retainer,"  I  thought 
fit  to  testify,  "  except  from  the  angel  Gabriel,  or 


298  Exigencies  of  Literature. 

unless  he  had  chapter  and  verse  for  it.  As  a 
colleague  told  him  in  my  presence,  he  was  too 
blamed  particular.  Excuse  me,  Miss  Prance." 

"I  think  he  was  just  right,"  she  remarked 
beamingly. 

"Too  right  for  this  world,  which  is  the  same 
as  being  wrong,"  the  father  corrected.  "Except 
by  you  two  babes,  it  is  universally  agreed  that  in 
law  all  sides  and  all  cases  should  have  a  hearing ; 
why  not  elsewhere,  especially  in  newspapers  ?  " 

"  O,  well,"  said  Dick,  "  the  lawyer  is  hired." 

"So  are  we.  Any  other  arguments  for  the 
negative  ? " 

"Yes,"  his  junior  persisted.  "The  advocate 
is  not  required  to  speak  from  his  own  private 
opinion,  but  according  to  the  exigencies  of  his 
client  ;  whereas  journalism  is  supposed  to  be 
serious." 

"The  devil  it  is!"  the  old  man  broke  forth. 
"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Louie.  You  ought  to  close 
your  ears  when  we  talk  this  way  :  I  shall  have 
to  send  you  off  if  this  youngster  keeps  on  contra- 
dicting me.  —  I  thought  I  had  cured  you  of  that 
delusion,  Grafton.  Serious  !  So  you  thought  it 
was  serious,  did  you  ? "  He  shook  with  laughter. 

Miss  Louise,  who  had  been  looking  anxious, 
emitted  a  softer  peal.  "There,  you  see  he  was 
only  joking."  She  looked  confidently  at  Dick, 
and  appealingly  at  me. 

"Not  exactly,"  said  her  father,  with  a  somewhat 


Exigencies  of  Literature.  299 

awkward  air,  and  his  tone  was  almost  apologetic : 
"  if  there's  any  joke  here,  you  must  lay  it  at 
the  door  of  the  great  god  Pan.  He's  a  terrible 
joker,  and  his  jests,  like  those  of  full-private 
James,  are  sometimes  in  doubtful  taste.  What 
can  we  do,  except  conform  to  the  laws  of  the 
universe  —  or  of  this  planet,  which  is  all  we  know 
of  the  cosmos?  If  our  conforming  is  not  agree- 
able to  the  higher  law,  the  fault  lies  with  'the 
guilty  goddess  of  our  harmful  deeds,  who  did  not 
better  for  our  life  provide  than  public  means, 
which  public  manners  breeds.'  That's  often  so, 
but  this  is  hardly  a  case  in  point,  as  I  will  show 
you.  It  seems  a  little  outre"  to  you,  that  I  should 
take  both  sides  at  the  same  time,  does  it  ?  On 
the  contrary,  it's  an  excellent  way  to  get  at  the 
whole  truth,  and  avoid  narrowness.  The  tariff 
question,  like  most  others,  does  not  lie  in  a  nut- 
shell, and  is  not  as  plain  as  that  two  and  two 
make  four.  There  is  much  to  be  said  for  and 
against,  which  can  best  be  put  in  the  way  of 
special  pleading — at  least  that's  the  way  it's 
wanted  ;  so  I,  having  gone  over  the  whole  ground 
and  cherishing  no  petty  prejudices,  argue  for 
protection  in  the  Forum,  and  for  free  trade  in  the 
Battle-Axe.  I'm  not  riding  a  personal  hobby,  you 
see ;  I'm  enlightening  the  community.  Read 
both  papers,  and  you'd  get  about  the  entire  truth 
of  the  matter  —  so  far  as  truth  on  this  or  any 
subject  is  attainable  by  human  faculties,  with  such 


300  Exigencies  of  Literature, 

lights  as  have  been  afforded  up  to  date.  If  people 
will  be  partisan,  and  hear  only  one  side,  that's 
not  my  fault.  You  might  blame  me  if  I  had 
given  only  one,  being  able  to  see  both.  This 
was  an  act  of  exceptional  conscientiousness,  such 
as  few  could  appreciate :  in  fact,  when  the  Forum 
people  found  that  I  was  answering  myself  in  the 
Battle-Axe,  they  were  absurdly  angry,  and  dis- 
pensed with  my  further  services." 

We  all  sat  silent  for  a  minute  or  so,  and  I  at 
least  was  pretty  well  convinced  ;  but  Dick  said, 
"  Let  me  ask  one  question,  Mr.  Prance,  and  for- 
give me  if  it  sounds  impertinent  :  you  know  it's 
not  meant  to  be  so.  Would  you  have  done  that 
merely  for  your  own  pleasure — as  an  intellectual 
exercise,  say  —  if  there  had  been  no  question  of 
pay?" 

"  I  might :  I  really  don't  know.  You  draw  too 
heavily  on  my  imagination,  Grafton.  Perhaps  you 
can  remember  when  you  wrote  for  the  fun  of  it, 
and  what  your  manners  and  motives  were  then  ; 
but  I'm  hanged  if  I  can,  it's  so  long  ago.  I've 
been  writing  for  beef  and  potatoes  and  pudding 
these  twenty  years  now ;  since  before  you  were 
born,  missie"  —  he  put  his  arm  around  his 
daughter's  chair  —  "and  before  this  curious  young 
man  was  interested  in  such  recondite  enquiries. 
The  trade  has  its  own  laws,  which  are  not  imposed 
on  amateurs.  Humiliating,  isn't  it  ?  "  He  turned 
on  me  almost  fiercely,  as  if  I  were  an  enemy 


Exigencies  of  Literature.  301 

come  there  to  spy  out  the  nakedness  of  the 
land. 

I  made  haste  to  mollify  his  wrath.  "Well,"  I 
said,  "it's  considered  a  mighty  good  thing  for  a 
fellow  to  be  thrown  on  his  own  resources.  My 
poor  father  used  to  say  I  needed  just  that  disci- 
pline to  make  a  man  of  me.  He  threatened  more 
than  once  to  cut  me  off  with  a  shilling:  you  must 
remember,  Dick,  how  scared  I  was  that  time  at 
college,  after  I  nearly  flunked  out.  Once  he  even 
talked  of  failing  —  a  real  failure,  you  know,  honest 
Injun  —  so  as  to  bring  me  to  hard  pan  and  put  me 
on  my  mettle.  I  half  believed  he  would  have  done 
it  but  for  Harry  and  Jane  and  my  mother  ;  but  he 
couldn't  thrash  them  for  my  sins,  because  that 
wasn't  biblical.  With  Grafton,  somehow,  the 
prescription  didn't  seem  to  work  —  not  till  you 
took  him  in  hand  ;  as  I  said,  you've  licked  him 
into  tolerably  decent  shape." 

It  was  my  cue  to  be  a  listener  when  at  Mr. 
Prance's,  and  not  talk  much ;  but  I  said  all  this 
to  show  that  there  was  no  purse-pride  about  me, 
that  I  respected  intellect  and  Roman  virtue  though 
in  rags,  and  in  their  presence  was  properly  meek 
and  humbleminded.  My  remarks,  however,  had 
not  a  very  good  effect :  Miss  Louise  looked  at  me 
indignantly,  and  her  parent  somewhat  contemptu- 
ously, I  thought.  "You  must  have  been  a  fine 
boy,"  he  observed.  "Grafton  is  getting  along, 
as  you  say;  within  a  year  or  two  he'll  probably 


302  Exigencies  of  Literature. 

learn  to  come  indoors  when  it  rains.  Before  he's 
my  age  you  may  see  him  not  only  upholding  and 
denouncing  revenue  reform,  but  supporting  all 
the  various  presidential  candidates  —  they'll  have 
at  least  six  then  —  and  earning  big  wages.  That 
sort  of  talent  is  coming  more  and  .more  into  de- 
mand." 

Louise  looked  pained.  "  O  no,  papa.  What 
you  did  was  all  right,  of  course  —  right  for  you, 
I  mean,  since  you  thought  so.  You're  a — what 
was  it  Mr.  Leaf  called  you  ?  O  yes,  a  casuist. 
But  Mr.  Grafton  might  not  be  able  to  take  that 
view  ;  he's  young  yet,  you  see,  and  not  —  not  so  — " 

"  Not  so  depraved  ?  My  dear,  you  have  no  idea 
of  the  depth  of  his  depravity.  He  does  things 
every  clay  that  you  wouldn't  suspect ;  much  worse 
than  I  did  at  his  time  of  life.  Grafton,  have  you 
forgotten  what  a  horrible  hole  you  got  into  when 
you  undertook  to  review  Weesbax'  book  with  a 
view  to  the  whole  truth  and  nothing  but  the 
truth  ?  You  put  the  notice  in  without  consulting 
me,  but  Perkins  chanced  to  look  at  it,  and  came 
to  me  —  luckily  you  were  out  at  lunch — as  black 
as  thunder.  '  Leave  it  to  me,'  I  said,  '  and  this 
will  not  occur  again.'  I  had  to  tell  him  you  were 
sensitive,  and  take  the  whole  responsibility  myself, 
and  keep  you  away  from  the  office  all  that  after- 
noon. And  then  at  night  I  talked  to  you  like  a 
father,  and  laid  bare  the  enormity  of  your  of- 
fence." 


Exigencies  of  Literature.  303 

"  Well,"  said  Dick,  rather  sheepishly,  "  I  was 
very  sorry  to  give  you  so  much  trouble,  of  course ; 
but  you  know  what  the  book  was,  and  that  it 
deserved  all  I  said." 

"  As  a  private  individual,  certainly  I  do  ;  but, 
shade  of  Giordano  Bruno  !  the  naked  truth  mustn't 
be  always  on  exhibition.  Have  you  no  sense  of 
decency  ?  Have  you  forgotten  the  illustrious  Pom- 
ponatius  ?  I  made  you  see,  officially,  that  the  firm 
brings  out  none  but  good  and  admirable  works, 
and  that  we  are  on  hand  to  testify  accordingly. 
Daughter,  he  heeded  the  words  of  wisdom,  and 
ever  since  he  practises  his  Socratic  principle 
only  on  books  that  come  in  from  outside.  Of 
our  own  publications  he  displays  merely  the 
shining  merits  :  when  he  has  anything  bad  to  say 
of  them  he  disguises  it  in  French  or  Sanskrit,  or 
in  that  fine  vein  of  irony  of  his  which  nobody  can 
detect.  That's  the  way  he  salves  his  conscience 
with  a  double  meaning  and  a  hidden  esoteric  sense, 
this  dissembling  Gnostic  whom  you  think  so 
guileless." 

"Well,  Mr.  Prance,"  said  Dick,  resignedly,  "I'm 
a  tree  of  your  grafting ;  and  according  to  you,  my 
backsliding  is  growth  in  grace." 

"Now,  papa,"  the  maiden  cried,  reproachfully, 
"you're  joking  again.  I  don't  mind  it"  (though 
she  looked  much  hurt),  "and  Mr.  Grafton  is 
getting  used  to  it,  but  strangers  might  not  under- 
stand." 


304  Exigencies  of  Literature. 

"You  needn't  mind  Bob,"  my  friend  soothingly 
remarked ;  "  he's  said  worse  things  to  me  than 
your  father  does  —  often  and  often." 

"  Then  I  don't  see  what  people  want  to  say  such 
hateful  things  for,"  she  almost  snapped.  The 
gentle  creature's  motherly  instincts  seemed  to  be 
aroused,  as  if  she  were  charged  with  the  defence 
of  helpless  innocence.  Her  father  and  his  prote'ge' 
were  the  only  persons  in  her  little  world  just  then  : 
they  were  right  in  all  things,  were  to  be  defended 
even  against  their  oldest  friends :  whoever  opposed 
them  was  a  heathen  man  and  publican,  whoever 
criticised  them  a  heretic  and  blasphemer. 


CHAPTER     XXXVIII. 

COSMIC    PHILOSOPHY. 

"  Miss  PRANCE,"  said  I,  rising  to  relight  my 
pipe.  "Are  you  quite  sure  you  don't  mind 
smoke  ? "  Of  course  I  had  said  this  before,  when 
we  began. 

"  No,"  she  answered,  shortly,  "  but  I  can  go 
into  the  next  room  if  you  want  to  talk  secrets. 
Only  it's  so  lonesome,  and  my  father  and  Mr. 
Graf  ton  never  mind  my  being  here."  Her  tone 
added,  plainly  enough,  "And  I  don't  see  what 
right  J0«  have  to  send  me  out." 

"  O,  not  at  all,"  I  had  to  say.  The  truth  was, 
I  felt  the  time  had  come  for  asserting  my  claim 
to  a  place  in  this  symposium,  and  making  a  con- 
tribution of  some  value  to  the  fund  of  ideas ;  and 
I  was  not  quite  sure  whether  she  ought  to  hear  it. 
"  Far  from  it,  on  the  contrary.  But  we're  getting 
rather  blue  in  here  —  I  refer  to  the  physical  at- 
mosphere ;  and  some  of  the  thoughts  expressed, 
Grafton's  more  especially,  are  rather  free.  I  only 


306  Cosmic  Philosophy. 

feared  you  might  find  it  tiresome,  not  to  say 
oppressive  —  " 

"  She's  used  to  it,"  said  her  father,  with  his 
hand  on  hers :  "  she  has  to  take  us  as  we  are,  for 
want  of  better.  The  air  here  is  nightly  polluted 
with  vile  fumes  and  conversation  unfit  for  unac- 
customed ears — when  Grafton  is  present,  as  you 
remark.  So  out  with  your  oracle." 

Thus  urged,  though  with  some  reluctance,  I 
eased  my  bosom  of  its  perilous  stuff.  A  man  of 
tact  adapts  his  conversation  to  the  company,  and 
I  had  worked  this  selection  up  at  leisure,  with 
reference  to  Mr.  Prance,  whose  measure  I  had 
taken  previously. 

"  I  speak  under  correction,"  I  began,  "  and  you 
will  know  how  much  importance  to  attach  to  the 
observation  ;  but  it  seems  to  me  difficult  to  recon- 
cile some  of  those  old  texts  with  modern  facts. 
'Cast your  bread  on  the  waters.'  Now  that's  not 
a  safe  operation  ;  the  chances  are  you'd  never  see 
it  again.  '  Consider  the  lilies.'  If  you  do,  how 
are  you  going  to  get  in  your  crops  ?  '  I  have  not 
seen  the  righteous  forsaken,  nor  his  seed  begging 
bread.'  Why,  you  may  see  it  on  any  street  corner, 
if  you  look  up  their  genealogy." 

I  paused,  for  a  smile  not  wholly  pensive  was 
spreading  over  Grafton's  countenance,  while  that 
of  Mr.  Prance  was  disfigured  by  a  positive  grin. 
The  former  inquired,  "  What  does  your  wife  say  to 
this,  Bob  ?  "  and  the  latter,  composing  his  facial 


Cosmic  Philosophy.  307 

muscles  to  that  air  of  gravity  which  best  becomes 
gray  hairs,  replied  in  an  unnecessarily  oratorical 
tone. 

"  You  put  it  bluntly,  and  I  fear  they  would 
scarcely  let  you  take  a  class  in  Sunday  School. 
But  you  need  not  look  so  shocked,  Louise.  Our 
friend  is  a  strict  constructionist,  but  I  think  I  can 
in  part  explain  his  difficulty.  He  quotes  from  a 
book  at  once  oriental,  therefore  highly  figurative, 
and  ancient,  therefore  not  immediately  aimed  at 
our  present  manners.  In  fact,  geographically, 
politically,  and  generally,  the  distance  between 
former  times  and  our  own  is  vast ;  witness  their 
sad  lack  of  newspapers,  and  of  great  publishing 
houses.  Of  old,  wars,  pestilences,  and  tyranny 
kept  down  the  surplus  population :  civilization  has 
stopped  most  of  these  amenities,  and  substituted 
an  improved  and  decorous  form  of  the  Struggle  for 
Existence,  developed  to  proportions  the  old  world 
never  imagined.  In  those  warm  climates  neces- 
sary expenses  were  light  and  wants  easily  supplied, 
for  people  lived  out  of  doors  and  required  hardly 
any  clothing  and  but  little  food.  Only  epicures 
and  men  in  politics  needed  much  money ;  common 
folks,  so  long  as  they  could  keep  their  heads  on 
their  shoulders,  had  no  appearances  to  preserve 
and  small  fear  for  their  suppers.  Their  drawbacks 
were  wholly  different  from  ours,  for  they  had  no 
personal  rights,  no  security  against  raids,  and  but 
the  roughest  and  vaguest  conception  of  liberty. 


308  Cosmic  PJiilosophy. 

They  were  far  more  picturesque  than  we,  and  far 
less  practical.  Their  notion  of  life  was  war  ;  ours 
is  peace.  They  cared  for  glory  ;  we  care  for  cash, 
and  comforts  to  be  procured  therewith.  They 
crawled  at  the  heels  of  a  patron  ;  we  stand  on  our 
own  pins  —  or  profess  to  —  and  push  each  his  own 
fortunes.  The  wonder  is  that  they  have  anything 
to  say  to  us,  except  through  the  imagination. 
Homer  is  but  a  more  venerable  and  less  edifying 
Hans  Andersen,  and  Thucydides  the  recorder  of 
conditions  that  seem  to  us  ludicrously  impossible. 
Why  should  the  gods  intervene  to  punish  Ajax 
and  protect  Ulysses,  or  lengthen  the  day  to  enable 
one  barbarous  tribe  to  complete  the  scalping  of 
another?  Such  favoritism,  such  glorification  of 
mere  force,  seems  to  us  neither  just  nor  wise. 
The  personal  element,  with  all  its  faults,  is  apo- 
theosized, alike  in  heaven  and  among  a  few  aris- 
tocrats on  earth  ;  the  mass  is  but  a  herd  to  be 
driven,  slaves  to  obey  the  law  or  feel  the  lash.  Of 
course  their  legislation,  civil  and  religious,  pro- 
ceeds on  a  basis  of  ideas  widely  variant  from  ours. 
And  yet,  that  wonderful,  deathless,  unaccountable 
Syrian  stock,  that  has  given  us  poets  greater  than 
Shakspeare,  and  ethical  principles  far  beyond 
Plato  —  we  must  make  a  reservation  in  their  fa- 
vor. This  at  least  they  have  done:  they  have 
dreamed  for  all  time,  and  it  may  be  for  eternity. 
Be  it  but  a  dream,  it  is  so  large,  so  beautiful  — 
the  most  beautiful  thing  in  life."  The  old  man's 


Cosmic  Philosophy.  309 

tone  was  solemn ;  he  seemed  to  have  forgotten 
our  presence,  to  be  talking  to  himself. 

"Father,"  said  Louise  very  earnestly,  "you 
believe  more  than  that ;  I  know  you  do." 

He  shook  off  his  abstraction.  "  My  dear, 
hadn't  we  better  save  up  our  beliefs  for  Sunday  ? 
Few  people  have  enough  to  go  round  the  week." 

"For  all  that,"  said  Dick,  "I  should  like  to 
have  lived  in  the  Bible  lands  and  times  —  the 
further  back  the  better,  before  the  crowd  came." 

"  That's  merely  because  you're  of  a  patriarchal 
turn,"  said  I;  "and  I  doubt  if  it  was  any  better 
than  the  Eastern  Shore.  You  must  remember 
that  '  they  didn't  know  everything  down  in 
Judee.' ' 

"  He  is  right,"  said  Mr.  Prance ;  "  they  knew 
little  of  the  laws  of  competition,  and  the  strin- 
gency of  the  literary  market,  and  the  rules  of 
Lybert  &  Co.  You  see  one  can't  have  every- 
thing. So  inquisitive  a  mind  as  yours,  Grafton, 
could  hardly  have  been  satisfied  with  the  company 
of  Samson  and  Elijah,  or  even  of  Ezra  and  Joel. 
Their  horizon  was  very  narrow,  and  narrower 
the  further  back  you  go." 

"  One  could  dispense  with  some  kinds  of  know- 
ledge," Dick  replied,  "to  be  allowed  to  walk  on 
one  straight  simple  line,  with  no  doubtings  or 
windings ;  to  deal  with  a  few  great  primary  truths, 
and  stand  erect  in  their  light." 

"Why,    so  you   do,"   cried  our  female   chorus. 


310  Cosmic  PJdlosophy. 

"Father  says  you  wouldn't  do  a  dishonest  thing 
to  save  your  life ;  that's  why  he  liked  you  so  much 
from  the  start.  I  know  you  wouldn't  tell  a  fib, 
not  to  him  or  me  at  least  —  no,  not  for  a  thousand 
dollars.  And  I  don't  believe  you  would  to  any- 
body, if  you  could  help  it." 

"  Not  unless  in  the  way  of  business,  I  hope," 
he  answered.  "  That's  the  attraction  of  those 
old  days  to  me ;  they  hadn't  any  business  to  speak 
of." 

"  And  they  won't  have  any  in  heaven,"  said 
she,  consolingly.  "  Poor  papa,  you  wont  have  to 
be  away  from  me  all  day,  and  to  write  so  hard 
at  night.  Maybe  they  have  books  there,  but  not 
any  newspapers,  I'm  sure." 

"  Just  so,  my  dear.  We'll  have  nothing  to  do 
but  twang  on  gold  harps,  and  listen  to  the  sweet 
little  cherubim  singing,  and  put  on  clean  collars 
every  morning  and  fine  white  clothes,  and  sit  by 
a  beautiful  purling  stream." 

"But  that  wont  suit  Dick,"  I  remarked.  "He'll 
want  to  go  fishing  in  it,  and  to  hunt  up  Socrates 
and  Epictetus,  and  bore  them  to  death  till  he 
hears  all  the  nonsense  they  can  think  of." 

"  Mr.  Prance,"  said  Dick,  "  I  didn't  bring  up 
these  abstruse  and  elevated  topics;  but  since 
we're  on  them,  if  you  don't  mind,  I'd  like  to  hear 
your  scheme  of  being.  It  might  do  Bob  here  a 
great  deal  of  good,  and  he  needs  it."  He  meant 
nothing  by  this  hit  at  me  ;  it  was  merely  one  of 


Cosmic  Philosophy.  311 

his  efforts  to  be  facetious,  and  he  never  had  any 
talent  as  a  humorist. 

"  His  what  ?  "  Louise  enquired.  "  What  on 
earth  do  you  mean  ?" 

"His  scheme,  his  theory.  Of  course  he's  got 
one  —  men  of  marked  ability  always  have.  His 
way  of  solving  the  infinite,  and  making  darkness 
light  and  crookedness  straight,  and  justifying  the 
ways  of  Providence,  Miss  Louise  ;  or,  if  you  pre- 
fer, his  plan  for  the  conduct  of  life." 

"Why,  that's  perfectly  plain,"  the  girl  cried 
with  full  assurance,  "and  I  don't  see  how  you 
could  ask  such  a  question.  His  plan  of  life  is 
simply  to  discharge  all  his  duties  faultlessly,  and 
do  a  great  many  kind  and  generous  things  besides, 
and  set  a  noble  example  to  you  and  all  other 
young  men." 

"  That's  right,  Louie,"  the  parent  commented  ; 
"  mix  in  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow.  But  I  fear 
your  Portrait  of  a  Gentleman  as  drawn  by  his 
Daughter  will  not  be  recognized  outside  the  fam- 
ily. Nor  do  I  propose  to  unwind  the  labyrinth 
of  fate  for  you,  Grafton,  as  you  modestly  request  ; 
you'd  better  go  to  a  fortune-teller.  You're  not 
as  lucid  as  usual  either.  What  he  wants,  little 
girl,  is  that  I  should  try  to  reconcile  the  dual 
elements  of  Character,  or  what  some  now  call 
the  two  lobes  of  the  brain,  and  explain  how 
honest  men  can  descend  to  the  tricks  we  perform 
every  day." 


312  Cosmic  Philosophy. 

"  There  are  no  tricks,  papa,  as  you're  perfectly 
well  aware  ;  that  is  only  your  funny  way  of  talk- 
ing. I  know  all  about  lobes,  and  I've  heard  of 
duality  ;  if  Mr.  Grafton  meant  them,  why  couldn't 
he  say  so  ?  But  you'll  have  to  explain  now,  or 
some  of  us  wont  understand." 

She  glanced  at  me,  so  I  said,  "That's  true,  Mr. 
Prance.  I  should  like  it  of  all  things."  If  none 
of  them  cared  to  hear  what  more  I  had  to  say, 
that  was  their  loss,  not  mine.  Thus  adjured  by 
all  present,  he  yielded. 

"  My  scheme  of  life,  as  Grafton  calls  it,  is  as 
simple  as  the  complexity  of  things  will  allow. 
We  can't  be  just  our  own  men,  and  go  our  own 
way.  I  doubt  if  anybody  can  ;  certainly  not 
those  who  are  situated  as  we  are.  Necessity  is 
laid  on  one  man  to  preach  the  gospel,  and  on 
another  to  hunt  for  the  North  Pole,  and  on  us 
to  get  our  living  between  Lore  Street  and  the 
Battle-Ax?  office.  Yet  we  don't  wish  to  become 
wholly  the  slaves  of  circumstance,  nor  to  starve 
the  soul  any  more  than  the  body.  The  only  way 
out  of  this  dilemma  is  to  compromise,  to  keep  two 
sets  of  accounts,  one  with  God  and  the  other  with 
Mrs.  Grundy.  One  life  we  live  invisibly  because 
we  ought  ;  the  visible  one  because  we  must,  and 
that  brings  its  duties  too.  If  they  clash,  we  can't 
help  that ;  our  business  is  to  keep  each  account 
balanced  by  itself,  and  in  as  little  conflict  with 
the  other  as  may  be.  Not  only  every  politician 


Cosmic  Philosophy.  313 

and  retail  tradesman,  but  every  man  who  has  any 
work  to  do  in  the  world,  I  suppose,  has  to  connive 
at  humbugs,  and  crook  the  supple  hinges  of  the 
knee  more  or  less,  and  do  and  bear  things  that 
run  counter  to  his  ideal,  if  he  has  one  ;  it's  either 
that,  or  step  down  and  out.  Where  the  venial 
ends  and  the  inadmissible  begins,  each  must  judge 
for  himself.  The  extremes  are  plain  enough:  fail 
on  one  side,  and  you're  a  cad,  a  worldling,  a  tool 
and  prey  of  the  adversary ;  fail  on  the  other, 
you're  an  imbecile.  Even  Scripture  says  he  that 
doesn't  provide  for  his  own  house  is  worse  than 
an  infidel.  Curious,  by  the  way,  the  number  of 
scoundrels  who  have  all  the  domestic  virtues : 
they  think  kindness  to  wives  and  children  gives 
them  license  to  be  foxes  and  wolves  outside,  and 
I  presume  they're  not  wholly  wrong  —  better  that 
way  than  the  other.  It's  not  an  angelic  situation, 
and  I  would  no  more  have  chosen  it  than  you 
would,  Grafton.  You  can't  do  as  you  would,  and 
you're  forced  to  do  as  you  wouldn't  if  you  were  a 
free  agent,  or  to  go  further  and  fare  worse.  We're 
let  in  to  it,  as  the  boys  say ;  by  whom,  or  why,  or 
how,  is  useless  to  inquire.  Most  men  either  ac- 
cept it  without  question  and  go  on  like  machines, 
or  else  try  to  persuade  themselves  that  what  they 
do  is  sufficiently  fine  to  justify  the  lapses  they 
commit  in  doing  it,  and  to  bring  out  their  account 
on  the  credit  side ;  but  that's  a  delusive  consola- 
tion mostly.  Why  should  we  pretend  that  our 


3 14  Cosmic  Philosophy. 

work  is  especially  congenial,  or  inspiring,  or  grand 
in  its  results  ?  Making  books  and  magazines  and 
newspapers  ranks  a  little  higher  than  raising  cab- 
bages, and  much  lower  than  speculating  in  real 
estate  or  watering  stocks.  We  haven't  the  ability 
for  these  more  useful  avocations,  you  see,  and  we 
must  expect  to  be  looked  down  upon  accordingly. 
It's  a  grind,  and  humble  at  that ;  but  it  keeps  our 
heads  above  water,  and  allows  us  to  feel  that  we're 
not  absolutely  cumberers  of  the  ground.  Ask  any 
salaried  man  what  is  the  most  satisfactory  element 
of  his  position,  and  if  he's  honest  he'll  say  the 
monthly  checks.  Not  that  the  noble  mind  can 
respect  base  lucre ;  but  so  quaintly  obnoxious  are 
the  arrangements  of  this  planet,  the  noble  mind 
can't  continue  to  occupy  its  present  tenement 
without  the  assistance  of  cash." 

"That's  what  I've  been  telling  Grafton  these 
ten  years,"  said  I,  seeing  that  our  entertainer 
paused  ;  "but  he  wouldn't  believe  it." 

"  And  that's  why  I  prefer  the  Old  Testament 
times,"  he  asserted ;  "  the  earlier  ones,  I  mean, 
before  mints  were  invented." 

"Grafton's  doing  fairly  now,"  said  Mr.  Prance, 
"  though  with  one  or  two  wrong  turnings  he  might 
easily  have  joined  the  ignoble  army  of  martyrs 
who  are  never  canonized,  because  they  suffer  in 
nobody's  cause.  As  it  is,  I  suppose  he  and  I 
ought  to  be  thankful  that  we  are  privileged  to 
show  some  small  fruits  of  our  education,  and  in  a 


Cosmic  Philosophy.  315 

not  flagrantly  dishonest  way  to  earn  our  mutton 
and  occasional  beer.  Yes,  Louie  "  —  the  girl  had 
left  the  room,  and  now  returned  with  several 
pint  bottles,  flanked  by  crackers  and  cheese  — 
"it  was  time  for  that.  And  when  we  think  that 
there  are  fellows  just  as  good  as  we  who  can't 
afford  these  unassuming  delicacies,  who  go  to 
bed  hungry  and  get  up  tired  with  seeking  places 
they  can't  find  —  " 

The  old  man  came  to  a  stop  in  the  middle  of 
his  sentence,  and  Dick  exclaimed,  "  You  can't  get 
a  devotional  exercise  out  of  that,  can  you?  It 
doesn't  make  me  feel  any  better  to  think  that 
others  are  worse  off  than  I." 

Louise  answered  him  reproachfully.  "  Don't 
you  see  that  he's  worrying  because  he  can't 
invite  them  all  to  supper,  and  find  good  places 
for  them  to-morrow  ?  He  would  if  he  could. 
You  ought  to  have  known  that." 

"  So  I  ought,"  said  Dick,  penitently.  "  Thank 
you,  Miss  Louise." 

"  I  don't  keep  an  intelligence  office,"  her  father 
retorted.  "You  thought  I  was  hard  on  the 
would-be  authors,  Grafton  ;  but  my  hands  were 
full  just  then  with  your  case,  which  seemed  to 
be  the  duty  that  lay  nearest ;  and  I've  cudgelled 
my  brains  over  them  longer  than  you  have.  I 
don't  like  the  system ;  it's  not  merely  that  of 
our  shop,  but  of  the  universe.  But  what  the 
devil  can  I  do  ?  —  There's  a  nickel  to  put  in  the 


316  Cosmic  Philosophy. 

church  plate,  Louie.  It's  my  fine  for  using  cuss- 
words,"  he  explained  to  us. 

"But  you  owe  me  another,  papa,"  the  girl 
urged  ;  "you're  very  bad  to-night." 

"  So  I  do ;  it's  the  demoralizing  atmosphere 
of  these  young  men.  Here's  a  dime  then;  take 
it  and  be  quiet.  Grafton,  you  may  possibly  have 
heard,  or  suspected  from  your  own  observation, 
that  the  world  as  a  corporation  is  soulless.  It 
has  a  hardening  influence  on  us  who  live  in  it, 
and  bears  heavily  on  those  who  don't  get  on  in 
it  —  the  lower  stratum,  a  few  feet  beneath  us. 
Ah,  bah,  we  say ;  he's  out,  let  him  stay  out : 
he  has  nothing,  therefore  he  deserves  nothing, 
can  do  nothing,  and  is  good  for  nothing.  That 
is  liable  to  be  like  most  snap-judgments.  He 
may  be  a  good  workman  but  a  poor  salesman  ; 
he  may  have  skill  to  raise  fine  pigs,  but  none 
to  get  them  to  market.  People  are  starving  or 
cutting  their  throats  every  other  week  who  can 
converse  in  six  languages,  calculate  an  eclipse, 
and  explain  exhaustively  the  true  inwardness  of 
the  Thusandso.  They  go  out  of  life  because 
they  can't  find  any  room  in  it ;  they  take  their 
learning  along  because  it  seems  to  be  of  no  use 
here,  and  possibly  it  may  be  in  some  other  planet. 
Once  they  had  a  place,  very  likely,  which  gave 
them  bread  and  cheese,  and  perhaps  a  little  vin 
ordinaire  and  the  plaudits  of  a  limited  community ; 
but  they  slipped  out  of  it,  and  never  slipped  into 


Cosmic  Philosophy.  317 

anything  else.  They  had  plenty  of  knowledge, 
but  they  couldn't  apply  it  so  as  to  turn  it  into 
power ;  they  couldn't  bring  themselves  to  bear, 
because  that  branch  was  not  attended  to  when 
they  were  laying  in  supplies.  What  should  be 
done  with  these  folks  ?  Obviously  one  of  two 
things  :  either  get  up  wars  and  plagues  as  of  old, 
and  decently  kill  off  enough  to  make  room  for 
them  and  thus  avoid  scandal,  or  set  up  bureaus 
for  the  Training  and  Utilizing  of  Intelligence, 
and  so  put  them  at  their  proper  work.  You 
might  write  a  prize  essay  on  that  topic  some  time, 
Graf  ton.  When  philanthropy  grows  tired  of  its 
murderers  and  burglars,  perhaps  it  will  think  of 
these  people." 

"  But,"  said  I,  "  don't  you  believe  most  of  'em 
are  no  account  ? " 

"Just  so,"  Dick  added;  "  naturally,  being  '  the 
world's  poor  rduted  leavings.'  " 

"  Not  necessarily,"  Mr.  Prance  replied  ;  "  not 
all.  Some  of  them  could  pick  oakum  neatly  after 
a  little  practice  ;  others  would  make  very  fair  bar- 
tenders or  district  school  teachers  ;  and  some,  no 
doubt,  could  govern  an  empire  almost  as  well  as 
the  Czar  or  Queen  Victoria.  But  they  have  no 
luck,  that  is,  they  don't  understand  the  arts  of 
trade  and  advertising ;  they  never  attended  Shys- 
ter and  Grab's  Commercial  Academy  —  that  is 
their  difficulty.  It  was  awfully  stupid  of  them, 
or  of  their  parents,  who  should  have  known  that 


318  Cosmic  PJiilosophy. 

pipelaying,  and  wirepulling,  and  trumpetblowing, 
and  making  yourself  solid  in  several  quarters, 
and  commanding  various  channels  of  usefulness, 
are  tfee  most  important  accomplishments  man  can 
possess,  more  so  even  than  the  rule  of  three  and 
signing  your  name.  O,  confound  it  all !  —  Louie, 
you'll  break  me  at  this  rate  :  you  ought  to  go  to 
bed." 

"I'll  let  you  off  this  time,  papa  dear,"  said 
the  girl,  who  was  listening  with  shining  eyes. 
"You've  told  us  all  about  the  account  with 
Mrs.  Grundy,  and  it's  very  interesting.  Now 
tell  us  about  the  other,  please :  or  was  this  last 
part  of  it  ?  Didn't  you  get  them  mixed  a  little  ? " 

"Perhaps  I  did,  my  child,  though  it's  against 
my  own  rule  and  all  rules  ;  to  do  so  is  highly 
improper.  Of  the  other  account  the  less  said 
the  better ;  talking  about  it  doesn't  help  to  keep 
it  straight,  nor  pottering  much  over  it  either. 
I've  known  men  to  have  a  good  balance  there 
without  suspecting  it ;  and  I've  known  lots  to 
overdraw  and  go  smash  when  they  thought 
they'd  been  laying  up  wealth  —  though  failures 
of  this  kind  mostly  make  no  noise.  With  these 
it  was  talk  ;  their  banking  was  in  word  and  name, 
not  in  deed  and  in  truth.  Judging  by  to-night, 
my  place  is  among  the  goats,  for  '  gabble's  the 
short  road  to  ruin.'  " 

When  we  were  in  the  street,  Dick  asked, 
"What  do  you  think  of  him?"  I  said  he  ought 


Cosmic  Pliilosophy.  319 

to  have  been  a  preacher.  "He  is,  but  his  best 
preaching  is  done  at  home.  Down  town  they 
choose  his  texts,  and  limit  him  as  to  time ;  up 
here  it's  spontaneous." 

"  He's  all  right,"  I  said,  "  and  I'm  content  to 
leave  you  in  his  hands  ;  but  another  question  is, 
what  do  you  think  of  his  daughter  ?" 

Dick  flushed  in  his  idiotic  fashion,  .and  replied, 
"  We  are  quite  brother  and  sister.  As  you  can 
see  for  yourself,  she  is  a  child,  inexperienced, 
ingenuous,  loyal,  and  devoted  to  her  father." 

"And  disposed  to  be  devoted  to  you  too,  eh  ?  " 
I  rashly  added.  "  If  you  don't  look  out,  old  man, 
you'll—" 

I  stopped,  for  he  turned  on  me  savagely.  "  Con- 
demnation," he  said  (or  something  worse),  and 
his  violence  shocked  me.  "  I  don't  want  to  be 
rough  on  you,  Bob,  but  you  surely  have  sense 
enough  to  know  that  you  ought  not  to  say  such 
things.  The  privileges  of  friendship  have  their 
limits,  and  I  want  you  to  understand  that  these 
people  are  my  friends  too.  How  would  you  like  it 
if  I  were  to  speak  in  that  way  of  your  sister?" 

It  did  not  strike  me  that  I  should  mind  it  much, 
for  in  those  days  Jane  and  I  were  not  on  the 
closest  terms  ;  besides,  the  cases  were  not  paral- 
lel. When  a  young  fellow  talks  about  a  strange 
girl  as  his  sister,  that  means  something  else  ;  but 
Grafton  always  was  a  cross  between  an  early 
Christian  and  a  government  mule,  and  I  could 


32O  Cosmic  Philosophy. 

not  manage  him  at  all.  Still,  I  wished  he  would 
go  less  to  Prance's  and  much  oftener  to  De 
Grout's,  where  he  was  just  as  welcome ;  but,  as 
you  have  already  seen,  that  affair  came  to  nothing, 
through  his  pigheaded  pride. 


CHAPTER     XXXIX. 

MISFORTUNES    COME    DOUBLE. 

ABOUT  a  year  after  this,  and  during  Dick's 
second  winter  in  the  metropolis,  he  saw  his 
senior's  desk  vacant  one  day,  and  toward  noon 
was  called  into  the  inner  office  by  Mr.  Perkins. 
"  Mr.  Grafton,  I  am  pained  to  say  that  Mr.  Prance 
has  had  a  slight  paralytic  stroke.  There  is  no 
immediate  danger,  as  I  gather  from  the  message, 
but  he  cannot  be  here  for  a  week  or  two  at  least. 
You  will  have  to  take  his  work,  as  far  as  possible. 
You  know  him  well,  I  think  ?  Then  see  him  to- 
day, and  get  his  instructions." 

He  found  the  veteran  tranquil  and  entirely 
himself.  The  daughter,  as  women  will,  had  risen 
to  meet  sudden  calamity  :  she  hovered  about  the 
bed,  jealous  even  of  this  intruder,  and  had  to  be 
ordered  away.  "  Go  and  take  a  rest,  my  dear," 
the  patient  said.  "  No,  it  wont  hurt  me  to  talk  ; 
the  doctor  said  so.  —  Well,  Dick,  pride  must  have 
a  fall ;  I've  not  been  on  my  back  in  the  daytime 
for  ten  years  or  more,  and  now  I'm  paying  up  for 


322  Misfortunes  come  Double. 

long  exemption.  It's  a  bore,  but  we  can't  help  it. 
You're  to  take  my  work  at  the  shop  ?  So  I  hinted 
to  Perkins :  you  may  as  well  have  my  place  if  I 
don't  get  back.  What,  the  Battle-Axe  too?  Do 
you  think  you  can  do  both  ?  I  fear  it'll  be  too 
much  for  you." 

"  My  dear  sir,  at  twenty-eight  I  ought  to  be  able 
to  carry  what  you  do  at  twice  that.  Of  course  I 
haven't  your  skill,  but  you've  been  training  me, 
and  if  they  will  let  me  try — " 

"  It's  merely  the  facility  of  long  practice,  my 
boy  ;  your  brains  are  full  as  good  as  mine.  But  I 
don't  want  you  to  overtax  nature,  and  break  down 
before  your  time.  Well,  try  if  you  must." 

He  did  try,  and  succeeded  ;  though  he  omitted 
to  state  that  his  temoprary  arrangements  with 
the  Battle-Axe  had  been  made  before  seeing  Mr. 
Prance.  By  stinting  sleep,  by  eating  his  breakfast 
on  the  cars  and  carrying  lunch  in  his  pocket,  by 
staying  down  town  till  eight  or  nine  P.M.,  he  was 
able  to  give  daily  reports  and  care  to  his  friend, 
whose  habits  made  sleep  before  midnight  im- 
possible. 

This  went  on  for  a  week ;  the  invalid  did  not 
mend,  and  the  doctor  spoke  dubiously.  "  Dick," 
said  the  veteran  one  evening,  "  I  shall  not  get  out 
of  this  :  it's  borne  in  upon  me  somehow.  An- 
other stroke  is  coming,  and  that  will  end  it ;  at 
least  I  hope  so,  for  I  can't  afford  to  be  an  uncon- 
scionable time  dying,  like  Charles  Second.  Of 


Misfortunes  come  Double.  323 

course  some  cases  hang  fire  for  a  year  or  two,  but 
that  would  swallow  up  all  my  savings,  and  be  an 
indecent  extravagance.  I'm  not  used  to  idleness, 
and  I've  no  desire  to  become  a  burden  and  '  a 
driveller  and  a  show.'  If  I  have  anything  to  say 
about  it,  I'll  go  as  soon  as  it's  clear  —  to  others,  I 
mean  —  that  I  can't  get  well.  There's  nothing  to 
regret  in  going,  except  Louise.  Poor  child,  it  will 
be  a  blow  to  her;  she  doesn't  understand  yet." 

Whether  Dick  was  prepared  for  this  or  not,  he 
spoke  up  on  the  instant.  "  I  will  take  care  of 
her,  if  she  will  let  me.  O  yes,"  —  for  he  noticed 
a  curious  look  on  the  sick  man's  face,  —  "  I've 
intended  for  some  time  to  speak  to  you  about  this 
—  later,  after  I  got  a  little  further  on.  As  things 
are,  it's  best  to  say  so  now." 

"  Have  you  spoken  to  her  about  it?"  the  parent 
inquired. 

Dick  had  some  very  oldfashioned  ideas.  "  Of 
course  not.  I  couldn't,  you  know,  till  I  had  told 
you.  But  she's  pretty  well  used  to  me,  and  shows 
no  strong  dislike  for  me  personally,  and  so  — " 

"  And  so  you  feel  bound  to  step  into  my  place 
here,  as  well  as  at  the  shop  and  the  office  ?  "  He 
spoke  irritably,  a  thing  unusual.  "That's  quite 
another  matter.  I  wouldn't  mind  letting  you  do 
my  work  for  a  week  or  two,  and  reaping  the  bene- 
fit, if  I  were  going  to  get  up  and  take  it  again  ; 
but  I  don't  propose  to  tie  a  millstone  round  your 
neck  for  life.  A  girl  and  a  boy  can  be  on  friendly 


324  Misfortunes  come  Double. 

terms  without  his  being  under  obligation  to  marry 
her.  Louie's  a  good  child,  and  all  that,  but  I 
don't  see  what  the  deuce  the  fact  is  to  you  ;  you're 
not  in  a  position  to  go  into  sentiment.  If  you 
have  no  understanding  with  her,  you're  in  no  way 
bound  to  sacrifice  yourself,  and  I  don't  propose  to 
have  it." 

"Mr.  Prance,"  said  Dick  coolly,  "certainly  I 
haven't  much  to  offer,  but  if  I  keep  on  with  your 
work  I'll  make  what  you've  been  earning,  or  near 
it.  Have  you  any  objection  to  my  family,  or 
habits,  or  character?" 

"That's  not  the  point.  Not  to  your  family  any- 
way, as  it's  comprised  in  yourself.  There  are  no 
relatives  to  object  to  the  proposed  alliance,  and 
that's  about  the  only  thing  to  be  said  in  its  favor. 
Keep  still  now  ;  can't  you  see  I'm  talking  in  your 
interest  ?  You've  taken  up  this  quixotic  notion  of 
immolating  yourself  for  your  friends,  that  I  may 
say,  '  Bless  you,  my  children,'  and  go  off  the  stage 
with  an  easy  mind.  It's  not  necessary,  Dick,  and 
I  can't  take  advantage  of  your  unprotected  youth. 
The  Prances  were  somebody  once  as  well  as  the 
Graf  tons,  and  they  still  cling  to  the  rags  of  self- 
respect.  My  girl  is  not  an  object  of  charity  yet ; 
she'll  have  a  thousand  or  two  —  provided  I  retire 
without  any  foolish  delays  —  and  six  thousand  of 
life  insurance  ;  and  she  can  have  a  home  at  the 
farm  in  New  Hampshire.  They  are  good  people 
and  fond  of  her,  and  she  likes  it  well  enough 
there." 


Misfortunes  come  Double.  325 

"  Still,  if  she  prefers  to  stay  here  with  me,  you 
ought  to  let  her.  She's  nearly  of  age  now,  and  I 
mean  to  give  her  the  choice." 

"  It's  a  poor  idea,  Grafton ;  it  will  be  a  bad 
thing  for  both  of  you.  If  you  could  live  in  the 
country  I  might  not  object  so  much,  but  you 
know  you  can't,  any  more  than  I  could,  with  this 
night  work.  It's  an  incessant,  everlasting  grind  ; 
a  demnition  grind;  as  the  prophet  Mantalini  ex- 
pressed it  —  or  if  it  wasn't  he  I  don't  know  who 
it  was  :  my  memory  is  going,  I  believe.  It's  folly, 
at  your  age  and  in  your  situation,  to  think  of 
marrying.  Your  wife  will  be  no  better  off  than 
you,  remember  ;  and  \yhen  children  come,  it  will 
be  worse  for  both  of  you.  You  read  Malthus 
before  you  move  in  this.  Haven't  I  been  through 
it  all  ?  It  has  broken  me  down  at  fifty-six,  and 
you'll  repeat  the  tale,  and  not  last  so  long.  Being 
what  you  are,  you'll  have  bound  yourself  to  do 
what  you  can't ;  every  day  you  will  feel  that  those 
nearest  you  have  rights  which  you  can't  supply. 
You'll  be  down  with  them  in  a  bearpit,  with  just 
a  glimpse  of  sun  and  sky,  climbing  your  pole  for 
no  more  return  than  daily  food.  You  know  only 
what  this  treadmill  is  for  one  :  what  right  have 
you  to  condemn  another  to  it  ?  Tell  me  that." 

"  I  simply  keep  her  where  I  found  her,  Mr. 
Prance.  I  wish  I  had  five  thousand  a  year  and 
the  old  place  to  give  her ;  as  I  haven't,  would  I 
stand  in  the  way  if  better  things  were  in  her 


326  Misfortunes  come  Double. 

reach  ?  I  come  between  her  and  desolation :  if 
she  has  other  resources,  if  she  thinks  differently, 
well  and  good.  As  you  say,  it's  not  for  me  to 
put  this  thing  on  grounds  of  sentiment  —  not  just 
here  and  now ;  nor  is  it  for  you  and  me  to  settle 
the  matter.  We'll  leave  that  to  her." 

"  You'll  have  your  way  of  course,  and  I  suppose 
I  know  how  it  will  end,  for  she  likes  you,  and  she's 
seen  nobody  else.  If  I  saw  any  way  out  of  this 
infernal  round  for  you,  it  would  be  right  enough. 
I  only  hope  you'll  not  have  to  curse  the  fate  you 
entail  on  others,  as  I've  done  —  not  out  loud,  to 
be  sure.  You're  a  fine  lad,  Dick,  and  I  hate  to 
think  that  I  and  mine  are  taking  a  mean  advan- 
tage of  you.  Poor  girl,  she's  as  innocent  as  a 
babe  about  these  things,  and  as  for  me,  my  help- 
lessness and  not  my  will  consents.  If  I  were  on 
my  feet  and  doing  my  stint,  you'd  put  this  off 
awhile  at  least.  I  can't  wish  you  luck,  my  boy, 
for  I  see  no  luck  in  it :  you  and  I  are  not  the 
lucky  kind." 

Grafton  cared  little  for  opposition,  once  the  way 
was  clear  to  his  unworldly  mind  ;  like  Jim  Bludso, 
when  he  saw  his  duty,  a  dead-sure  thing,  he  went 
for  it  there  and  then.  He  had  less  difficulty  with 
the  daughter;  her  only  idea  of  finance  was  to 
make  the  few  dollars  that  came  into  her  hands  go 
as  far  as  might  be,  and  the  thought  of  being  a 
burden  to  any  one  never  entered  her  head.  She 
had  been  indispensable  to  her  father,  or  so  she 


Misfortunes  come  Double.  327 

imagined,  and  Dick  was  the  next  man  in  the  world 
to  her.  father  —  in  fact,  there  were  no  others 
deserving  mention.  If  she  had  been  offered  a 
queen's  position  and  income  to  leave  these  two, 
she  would  have  rejected  it  with  disdain ;  but  no 
such  temptation  had  come  her  way,  or  was  likely 
to.  Her  mind  was  simple  and  direct,  and  she  had 
been  very  imperfectly  taught,  having  no  mother  to 
tell  her  how  things  are  done  in  society.  She  had 
read  that  young  men  were  in  the  habit  of  marry- 
ing young  women,  and  saw  no  impropriety  in 
Grafton's  entertaining  views  of  this  nature  con- 
cerning herself ;  but  before  she  could  understand 
the  need  for  speedy  action  in  the  premises,  her 
father's  condition  had  to  be  explained  to  her. 
Then  she  gave  way  for  a  moment,  but  presently 
remembered  that  filial  love  must  find  its  expression 
now  in  fortitude.  For  the  rest,  it  is  the  nature  of 
the  vine  to  cling,  and  when  the  parent  oak  is 
shattered  by  the  tempest,  it  is  well  if  there  be  a 
vigorous  young  tree  at  hand  to  take  its  place. 
Not  that  she  thought  of  this  —  questions  of  self- 
interest  were  not  in.  her  way ;  but  Dick  knew  it, 
and  assumed  his  new  part  with  courage. 

He  had  the  manliness  to  come  to  me,  few  as 
were  his  hours  of  leisure  then,  and  tell  me  what 
had  occurred.  "I  don't  expect  your  approval, 
Bob,"  he  said,  frankly,  "but  it's  only  fair  that 
you  should  know  what  I  mean  to  do." 

I   knew   that  he  could  not  be  shaken,  but  the 


328  Misfortunes  come  Double. 

bride-elect  was  not  fond  of  me,  and  self-respect 
required  that  I  should  put  myself  on  record ; 
politely  of  course,  and  with  due  consideration 
for  his  feelings,  but  still  unmistakably.  "Well, 
Grafton,"  I  said,  "  I've  got  nothing  to  say  against 
the  girl,  but' —  " 

"No,"  he  interrupted;  "not  at  this  time  of 
day,  I  should  judge."  There  was  a  warning 
gleam  in  his  eye  which  was  wholly  uncalled  for. 

"  Still,  I  had  other  views  for  you,  and  I  quite 
agree  with  Mr.  Prance."  I  had  made  him  tell 
me  the  whole  story,  and  he  had  not  the  skill 
or  prudence  to  conceal  that  wise  man's  objec- 
tions. "  You  are  going  into  this  thing  simply 
from  a  quixotic  sense  of  honor  and  generosity, 
and,  so  far  as  I  see,  the  sacrifice  on  your  part 
is  entirely  unnecessary.  It's  not  your  funeral —  " 

He  again  broke  in  upon  my  discourse,  and  in 
an  unpleasantly  sarcastic  tone.  "  It  will  soon  be 
the  funeral  of  my  best  friend  :  would  you  advise 
me  to  drop  the  acquaintance  of  the  family  just  at 
this  time  ?  " 

"Not  that,"  I  replied  with  dignity,  "but  there 
are  intermediate  stages  between  dropping  and 
marrying  them.  The  latter,  I  repeat,  is  a  need- 
less sacrifice." 

"  Sacrifice  ! "  he  cried.  "  Why  will  you  make 
me  out  a  martyr  ?  I  told  you  long  ago  that  I 
was  as  selfish  as  other  men.  To  say  the  truth, 
Bob,  it's  a  damnably  lonesome  and  aimless  life; 


Misfortunes  come  Double.  329 

and  I  don't  believe  a  man  is  good  for  much  so 
long  as  he  has  only  himself  to  care  for.  Friends 
are  all  very  well  in  their  way,  but  it's  not  good 
for  man  to  be  alone,  as  you  used  to  remind  me. 
I'm  not  as  callous  and  independent  as  I  once  was ; 
time  seems  to  take  the  stiffening  out  of  a  man, 
and  give  him  a  sneaking  desire  for  sympathy  and 
ties  of  his  own.  You  can't  blame  me,  for  you  set 
the  example."  He  was  plainly  conscious  of  the 
gross  imprudence  of  his  course. 

"  O,  if  you  put  it  on  that  ground  :  though  you 
talked  differently  not  many  months  ago."  I  al- 
luded to  a  conversation  which  you  will  find  re- 
corded in  Chapter  XXIX.  But  I  spared  him 
any  further  reference  to  that  episode,  and  went 
on  with  well-deserved  irony,  "  Of  course  there 
were  no  other  women  in  New  York,  at  least 
within  your  reach  ;  and  as  it  was  impossible  for 
you  to  form  a  union  which  would  promote  your 
prospects  in  life  —  I  paused  there :  such  a 
pause  is  sometimes  more  impressive  than  the 
completion  of  your  sentence. 

He  disregarded  the  innuendo,  and  said  quietly, 
"  I  understand  your  point  of  view :  we've  dis- 
cussed these  topics  before  in  a  general  way,  and 
must  agree  to  differ.  Well,  old  man,  you  can  cut 
me  if  you  like  :  it  will  come  to  much  the  same 
thing,  as  I  shall  be  more  closely  occupied  than 
ever,  and  have  no  time  to  leave  my  work."  He 
looked  me  in  the  eye,  and  we  both  felt  that  more 


33O  Misfortunes  come  Double. 

was  meant  than  the  words   expressed.     "  I  don't 
blame  you  :  we'll  part  friends  at  any  rate." 

He  held  out  his  hand  :  I  took  it,  and  in  that 
moment  our  hearts  went  out  to  each  other,  and 
knew  that  I  could  forgive  him  even  this.  "  Let 
me  know  when  it's  to  be,  and  I'll  come  if  you 
want  me,"  I  said  in  low  and  agitated  tones.  A 
man  of  my  temperament  can  be  almost  unpar- 
donably  foolish  where  the  comrades  of  his  youth 
are  concerned,  and  I  never  professed  —  except 
now  and  then  for  some  particular  purpose — to 
be  a  sage. 


CHAPTER    XL. 

DEATH    AND    MATRIMONY. 

GRAFTON'S  courtship,  I  imagine,  was  a  prosaic 
and  melancholy  one  ;  the  circumstances  afforded 
little  room  or  reason  for  any  other.  The  wedding 
was  quiet,  not  to  say  sombre ;  the  unhappy  pair 
took  no  trip,  and  the  groom  left  his  duties  for 
but  an  hour  or  two  that  day,  for  he  knew  a  longer 
absence  would  be  required  soon.  Mr.  Prance  was 
failing :  Dick  told  me  of  one  deliverance  of  his 
as  the  end  approached. 

"  No,  I  can  get  through  this  without  a  min- 
ister," the  sick  man  said :  "  you'll  have  to  call 
one  in  shortly,  and  it's  not  fair  to  ask  too  much 
of  him,  for  I'm  not  a  valuable  parishioner.  You'll 
do  for  a  confessor,  if  any  last  words  are  required. 
I'm  quite  content  to  leave  this  vale  of  tears,  dear 
boy :  as  your  friend  Marcus  says,  why  should 
one  desire  a  longer  stay,  things  being  as  they 
are  ?  Yes,  the  accommodations  and  arrangements 
are  far  from  perfect ;  if  asked,  I  really  could  not 
recommend  the  Globe  Hotel.  Do  you  know,  I 


332  DeatJi  and  Matrimony. 

have  an  idea  they  do  things  better  at  the  oppo- 
sition house.  It's  erratic,  I  admit ;  if  it's  imbecile, 
kindly  credit  the  weakness  to  my  failing  powers  ; 
but  I  believe  there's  something  beyond  —  I  do, 
indeed.  If  there  isn't,  this  business  of  existence 
is  a  put-up  job,  a  most  disreputable  swindle  ; 
and  that,  you  see,  is  what  some  call  unthinkable 
—  at  least  one  would  rather  not  think  it.  No, 
I  fancy  the  Demiurge's  reign  is  limited  to  this 
mundane  sphere.  Excellent  people,  those  Gnos- 
tics, though  ahead  of  their  time ;  they  devised 
the  only  plausible  explanation  of  this  planet.  Put 
your  head  nearer,  Dick,  and  let  me  '  whisper : 
don't  tell  anybody,  but  I  believe  the  Man  of 
Nazareth  was  not  altogether  mistaken.  Curious 
instinct,  isn't  it,  to  print  all  His  titles  in  capitals  ? 
Curious,  but  sound.  So  far  as  we  know,  He 
never  did  any  editing,  or  even  writing,  except 
with  His  finger  in  the  dust,  so  that  it  couldn't 
be  preserved  —  fine,  strong  idea  that:  but  I  be- 
lieve He  would  understand.  You  think  I'm 
wandering  ?  Well,  maybe  I  am.  A  little  further, 
and  I'll  wander  over  the  edge  and  take  the  plunge, 
and  then  perhaps  I'll  be  in  the  way  to  know  more 
about  it." 

At  the  funeral  I  chanced  to  be  put  in  a  carriage 
with  Mr.  Leaf.  "  I  am  not  what  is  called  a 
religious  man,"  said  he,  "nor  was  our  friend;  but 
to  me  he  represented  the  Power  that  made  him. 
John  is  my  favorite  author,  not  James ;  but  James 


Death  and  Matrimony.  333 

has  a  noble  word  about  those  being  happy  who 
endure.  Yes,  we  are  following  to  the  grave  an 
athlete,  crowned  at  last  and  victorious.  When 
stripped  bare  and  smitten  to  earth,  he  never 
whined,  but  rose  and  girded  himself,  and  went 
soberly  about  his  humble  duties.  He  disdained 
the  success  that  comes  by  puffery  and  lying :  it 
strengthens  my  soul  to  think  how  that  man  ab- 
horred a  lie.  How  brave  he  was,  and  how  gentle  ! 
His  fine  spirit  revolted  against  its  bonds,  and 
he  loved  to  deride  himself  and  his  work  ;  but 
many  have  been  the  better  for  him  and  none 
the  worse.  If  his  light  was  not  set  on  a  hill, 
nor  in  any  lofty  candlestick,  the  blame  was  not 
his.  When  the  city  turned  its  back  on  him,  he 
drew  apart  into  himself,  and  there  lived,  a  modern 
hermit,  in  patience  and  purity.  Had  he  been  a 
Voltairean,  he  had  reason  and  excuse ;  but  amid 
all  the  doubts  that  life  forced  upon  him  he  re- 
tained faith  enough  to  stand  erect  and  be  a  man. 
His  keen  analysis  went  to  the  root  of  things,  and 
severed  the  perishable  from  the  permanent ;  so 
much,  the  husk,  the  routine,  for  bread  and  a  roof, 
in  necessary  deference  to  the  powers  that  rule 
here  and  now  ;  but  the  inner  part,  the  self,  was 
not  for  sale,  but  kept  unmarred  for  better  use 
in  the  hereafter.  Under  that  accursed  system 
he  was  held  down,  hidden,  chained  as  a  galley- 
slave  to  his  oar  :  now  he  is  freed,  enlarged.  Few 
knew  him  here  ;  but  the  Master  Artist  arranges 


334  Death  and  Matrimony. 

His  figures  and  spreads  His  colors  on  a  plan 
of  His  own,  and  those  of  whom  the  world  was 
not  worthy  shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the 
firmament.  For  such  as  he  are  the  palm  branches, 
the  reward  and  the  repose."  The  old  painter 
turned  his  head  aside  and  drew  out  his  handker- 
chief: he  was  not  thinking  whether  I  listened 
and  understood  or  not. 

I  was  careful  not  to  ask  the  De  Grouts  what 
they  thought  of  Dick's  marriage ;  but  as  soon  as  it 
was  decent  to  do  so,  Edith  induced  her  mother  to 
countenance  her  in  a  call  on  the  mourning  bride. 
They  wore  their  plainest  clothes  and  left  their 
carriage  around  the  corner ;  but  even  so,  their 
presence  must  have  caused  some  astonishment, 
and  the  meeting  could  hardly  be  enjoyable  on 
either  side.  No  doubt  they  were  gracious,  and 
Mrs.  Grafton,  if  otherwise  placed,  would  have 
borne  sufficient  signs  of  birth  and  breeding ;  but 
she  shared  her  husband's  views  as  to  keeping  in 
their  own  sphere.  Her  bereavement  afforded  a 
sufficient  excuse  for  not  returning  the  visit  till  it 
and  her  existence  might  be  supposed  to  be  alike 
forgotten. 

We  all  thought  better  of  the  poor  young  couple 
for  taking  this  stand  ;  it  avoided  trouble.  What 
is  the  use  of  mincing  matters,  or  pretending  that 
things  are  otherwise  than  as  they  are  ?  As  Mr. 
Prance  used  to  say,  the  solid  concrete,  and  not 


Death  and  Matrimony.  335 

the  airy  abstract,  makes  the  best  pavement  to 
walk  on.  A  man  can  go  anywhere,  after  dark  at 
least,  but  ladies  of  established  position  have  no 
business  in  that  part  of  East  Sixteenth  Street  — 
it  is  too  incongruous.  I  am  not  responsible  for 
these  social  arrangements,  and  they  may  be  open 
to  criticism  in  some  of  their  details  or  applica- 
tions, but  any  one  can  see  that  in  the  main  they 
are  reasonable  and  inevitable.  No  one  cares 
where  a  bachelor  sleeps  ;  so  long  as  he  dresses 
properly  and  behaves  himself,  there  is  nothing  in 
our  usages  to  prevent  his  being  welcome  any- 
where ;  but  in  marrying  a  poor  girl  he  simply  ties 
a  millstone  round  his  neck,  as  Grafton's  father- 
in-law  had  fairly  warned  him.  His  respectable 
friends  cannot  recognize  her  without  grave  risk 
of  embarrassing  complications  ;  if  they  push  phil- 
anthropy so  far  as  to  call,  they  are  out  of  place, 
and  if  she  attempts  to  respond,  she  feels  much 
more  so.  She  has  no  fit  rooms  to  receive  com- 
pany ;  she  probably  has  no  cards,  they  are  not 
needed  in  her  way  of  life ;  and  —  really  it  is 
needless  to  pursue  such  an  unpleasant  subject. 
As  I  have  said,  the  Graftons  quite  understood 
all  this ;  but  Dick's  absurd  mistake  was  in  suppos- 
ing that  he  was  under  the  ban  before  marriage, 
and  obliged  to  perpetuate  his  impoverished  con- 
dition instead  of  escaping  from  it.  I  had  endeav- 
ored fifty  times  to  expose  this  fallacy,  but  it  was 
useless. 


336  Death  and  Matrimony. 

I  never  entirely  abandoned  him,  I  am  proud  to 
say,  but  no  great  encouragement  was  offered  on 
his  side  to  continued  intimacy.  When  he  had 
been  married  about  fifteen  months,  a  new  incum- 
brance  arrived  ;  they  always  do  with  such  people, 
I  believe.  Not  long  after  this  I  met  him  on  the 
street ;  he  was  looking  worn  and  jaded. 

"Old  man,"  I  said,  "we  never  see  you  now." 

"  Too  much  to  do,"  he  answered,  "  business  is 
brisk,  and  I  work  like  a  drayhorse." 

"Well,"  said  I,  "you'll  come  along  now  and 
have  some  lunch ; "  and  I  took  him  into  Zwei- 
kopf's. 

"  This  hock  is  good,"  he  admitted ;  "  I  haven't 
tasted  any  in  ages." 

"  Dick,  you're  running  it  too  hard.  You  should 
take  a  vacation." 

"  How  can  I,  when  it  would  increase  the  outlay 
and  stop  the  supplies  ?  Two  thousand  is  less  for 
me  here  than  six  hundred  was  in  Tackville  and 
Miletus.  You  used  to  want  me  to  be  up  and 
doing,  and  I'm  at  it  now  ;  I  can't  stop  for  a  week, 
or  even  a  day  off." 

"  But  can't  you  branch  out  ?  With  your  brains, 
which  ought  to  be  growing  all  the  time ;  you  might 
do  something  original,  and  get  higher  pay." 

"  There's  no  time  to  think  of  anything  original. 
The  regular  routine  sucks  your  brains  dry,  and 
takes  all  ambition  out  of  you.  I  suppose  that's 
what  Mr.  Prance  meaiit  by  his  early  warnings." 


DeatJi  and  Matrimony.  337 

After  a  pause  he  went  on.  "  Bob,  do  you  remem- 
ber Tennyson's  prince  who  had  '  weird  seizures ' 
now  and  then,  and  '  seemed  to  move  among  a 
world  of  ghosts,  and  feel  himself  the  shadow  of  a 
dream  '  ?  That  has  been  my  normal  state  since  I 
can  remember,  though  not  always  equally.  You, 
and  this  table,  and  these  oysters,  and  my  desk  in 
Lore  Street,  and  what  I  write,  and  all  the  rest  of 
it,  pass  before  me  like  a  poor  play  badly  acted.  I 
am  a  part  of  it  all,  but  I'm  hardly  real  to  myself; 
when  anything  happens,  good  or  bad,  the  first 
thought  that  rises  is,  It  doesn't  matter ;  this  is  but 
a  form  to  be  gone  through  with,  a  series  of  images 
passing  before  the  eye,  a  waking  vision,  a  third- 
class  puppet-show.  The  solidest  part  of  it  is 
home  and  the  ties  there ;  that's  something  to  work 
for,  something  to  fall  back  on.  I  used  to  feel  as 
if  I  could  drop  out  of  life  from  sheer  lack  of  any 
interest  in  it ;  I  had  no  hold,  no  purchase ;  but 
wife  and  child  give  one  a  sort  of  anchorage,  as  I 
once  fancied  the  old  place  might  have  done.  I 
believe  Mrs.  Prance,  dead  twenty  years,  was  nearer 
and  more  authentic  to  her  husband  than  the  things 
around  him." 

Some,  hearing  Grafton  talk  thus,  would  have 
questioned  his  sanity ;  but  I  knew  it  was  merely 
his  old  disease  of  impracticable  idealism.  He  always 
preferred  trains  of  thought  that  led  nowhere,  or 
straight  away  from  utility  and  common  sense. 
After  this,  I  had  small  hopes  of  him. 


CHAPTER     XLI. 

GREAT    NEWS. 

IT  is  time  this  tiresome  tale  was  ended.  A 
flat,  lustreless,  dismal  chronicle  it  is,  and  my 
spirits  sink  as  I  try  to  make  the  best  of  it ;  for  I 
give  you  my  word  that  I  have  selected  the  least 
undramatic  episodes  of  Grafton's  life,  and  such  of 
the  conversational  encounters  he  engaged  in  as 
would  best  bear  repeating.  When  a  man  has  no 
money  and  no  faculty  of  making  any,  there  cannot 
be  much  that  is  cheerful  to  say  about  him  ;  but 
his  unwise  architecture  may  serve  as  a  useful  les- 
son to  more  fortunate  builders,  and  the  principal 
end  of  literature,  I  take  it,  is  the  moral  instruction 
of  youth.  The  ending  of  the  narrative  will  sur- 
prise you,  as  it  did  me :  it  is  not  at  all  in  keeping 
with  what  goes  before  — there  is  no  sort  of  fitness, 
or  coherence,  or  even  poetical  justice  ;  but  I  can- 
not help  that. 

It  was  a  blustrous  morning  in  March,  and  the 
subject  of  this  history  had  been  grappling  with 
domestic  cares  for  full  two  years.  I  sat  in  my 


Great  News. 


339 


place  on  Water  street,  looking  over  market  reports, 
when  Clinton  De  Grout  rushed  in.  He  was  grow- 
ing portly  now,  and  free  in  his  language :  he  had 
recently  set  up  an  establishment  of  his  own,  hav- 
ing loved  both  wisely  and  well.  "  Zeuxis  and 
Apelles,"  he  cried ;  at  least  I  substitute  these 
harmless  names  for  the  ones  which  he  mentioned. 
He  sank  into  an  arm-chair,  and  I  would  not  be 
willing  to  show  myself  in  such  a  blown  and  breath- 
less state.  "  Have  you  heard  this  about  Grafton  ? " 

"  No  ;  what  ?  "  I  asked,  starting  anxiously  to  my 
feet :  "  is  his  wife  dead  ?  " 

"  Get  out,"  he  replied  with  too  little  urbanity. 
"What  the  demon  would  she  want  to  die  for? 
Has  she  done  anything  to  you  ?  She's  all  right. 
But  I  only  just  heard  —  "  And  he  told  me  what 
it  was. 

"  Great  Caesar,"  I  said,  for  I  wished  to  show  the 
loose  youth  that  a  gentleman  can  be  emphatic 
without  profanity  ;  "  is  this  a  sure  thing  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know ;  I  hope  so.  Let's  go  round  and 
see." 

We  went,  and  found  our  friend  in  his  quiet 
corner  at  Lybert's,  seemingly  employed  as  usual. 
"  Old  horse,"  Clinton  began,  "  we've  come  to  con- 
gratulate you." 

"Yes,"  I  added,  "provided  the  story's  true. 
We  want  the  particulars  first." 

"  What  story  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Let  us  have  no 
misunderstanding  now :  I  don't  wish  to  obtain 


340  Great  News. 

congratulations  on  false  pretences.  We'd  better 
get  at  the  alleged  facts  in  order.  You  claim  —  " 

"That's  what  we're  after,"  I  said.  "Somebody 
told  Clint  that  you  had  come  into  a  big  fortune." 

"  O  no,"  Dick  corrected ;  "  merely  a  decent 
competence." 

"  Thunder,"  Clinton  observed.  "  Why,  they 
said  it  was  a  solid  million." 

"  It's  more,  as  I  understand ;  but  you  don't  call 
that  a  big  fortune,  do  you  ? " 

We  both  stared  at  him.  "You're  a  pretty 
blanked  cool  hand,  you  are,"  said  my  companion. 

"There's  nothing  to  be  hot  about,"  Grafton 
replied,  "  but  there  will  be  presently,  if  you  shout 
so.  This  isn't  a  football  ground.  We  don't  allow 
dime  novels  in  this  establishment,  nor  noise,  nor 
bad  language ;  if  you  try  to  demoralize  our  young 
clerks,  Lybert  &  Co.  will  be  about  your  ears. 
Wait  two  minutes,  will  you?"  He  gave  some 
directions  to  a  subordinate,  who  listened  with 
marked  deference.  "  Now  let's  go  out  to  lunch  ; 
it's  early,  but  you  can  get  up  an  appetite  in  honor 
of  this  reunion.  Bob,  you  choose  the  place,  and 
Clint,  you  can  select  the  dishes  —  you're  what 
Mrs.  Gauche  calls  an  ipecac ;  but  it's  my  spread. 
First  time  I've  had  the  honor,  but  I  trust  not  the 
last." 

"I  must  say,  Dick,"  I  remarked  as  soon  as  I 
could  get  in  a  word  edgeways,  "  your  ideas  have 


Great  News.  341 

gone  up  several  pegs.  To  talk  so  irreverently  of 
a  million  —  " 

"My  ideas  are  just  where  they  always  were," 
he  answered,  "though  my  tax-rate  will  go  up,  I 
suppose." 

"  Don't  you  see,"  Clinton  put  in,  "  he's  posing 
for  the  ancient  sage,  no  more  elated  by  prosperity 
than  cast  down  by  t'other  thing  ?  You  couldn't 
expect  any  less  of  him.  Well,  bully  boy,  you've 
kept  a  stiff  upper  lip  in  the  shade,  and  now  you 
can  enjoy  the  shine — but  don't  be  too  dashed 
philosophic  about  it." 

We  found  an  upstairs  room  in  a  high-class  hash- 
ery,  and  secured  the  sole  tenancy  of  it  for  an  hour. 
"  Now,  Dick,"  I  said,  "tell  us  the  whole  story.  Is 
it  true  that  old  uncle  of  yours  has  turned  up  at 
last?" 

"  He's  turned  up  defunct,  and  it  would  not  be 
the  correct  thing  for  me  to  say  that  no  action  of 
his  life  became  him  like  the  leaving  it ;  but  be- 
tween us,  I  suspect  he  was  a  hard  case.  He  left 
home,  you  know,  when  I  was  a  baby,  and  we 
thought  his  career  was  soon  ended ;  but  it  seems 
he  drifted  to  the  Pacific  slope,  went  through  vari- 
ous queer  adventures,  and  under  a  false  name 
amassed  all  this  money.  He  never  was  much  of  a 
Grafton,  in  that  or  anything  else ;  but  being  un- 
married, and  sick  for  some  months,  he  disclosed 
himself  to  a  lawyer  out  there,  set  on  foot  inquiries 
about  the  family,  and  made  his  will  in  my  favor. 


342  Great  News. 

I  was  his  only  relative  and  natural  heir,  and  I 
might  feel  more  obliged  to  him  if  he  had  taken 
these  steps  some  years  ago." 

"  Then,"  said  I,  "  you  can  buy  baok  the  old 
place,  after  all  ?  " 

"  I  should  do  so  in  any  case,  but  he  has  ex- 
pressed a  desire  to  that  effect,  which  carries  the 
force  of  a  command.  Natural  feeling,  or  I  might 
say  conscience,  awoke  in  him  toward  the  end  and 
better  late  than  never." 

A  shadow  came  over  his  face  as  he  thought  of 
the  years  of  needless  narrowness  and  gloom.  I 
hastened  to  cheer  him  up.  "  But  I  say,  old  man, 
with  your  high  and  mighty  notions  you  couldn't 
have  taken  help  from  him  while  he  was  alive,  you 
know." 

"  You  forget  my  patriarchal  views,  and  our 
Maryland  prejudice  in  behalf  of  family  ties,  Bob. 
As  my  father's  brother  and  head  of  the  house, 
he  had  a  right  to  restore  its  fortunes  and  to 
direct  my  life,  if  he  had  chosen  to  take  the 
trouble."  I  could  see  that  he  felt  more  aggrieved 
by  that  silence  of  near  thirty  years  than  gratified 
by  his  sudden  inheritance. 

Young  De  Grout,  who  was  looking  rather  sour 
and  pugnacious,  now  asked,  "  When  did  you  get 
all  this  fine  news,  Monte  Christo  ?  It  sounds  as 
as  if  you'd  been  in  correspondence  with  your  lawyer 
since  New  Year's." 

"  O  no ;   he  wrote  at  length,  and  I  got  it  only 


Great  News.  343 

yesterday,  with  authority  to  draw  on  him  to  any 
extent  through  a  bank  here ;  he'd  satisfied  himself 
about  me  some  time  ago,  it  appears.  I  would 
have  sent  you  word,  or  looked  you  up,  presently 
—  both  of  you.  Did  you  suppose  I  wanted  to 
keep  it  to  myself  ?  I've  had  no  time  to  turn  round 
yet,  till  I  made  this  sacrifice  to  friendship. 

"  And  now  you'll  cut  Lybert  &  Co.,  of  course  ?  " 

"As  soon  as  I  can  get  things  straight  —  in  a 
month  or  so.  They've  done  the  fair  thing  by 
me,  and  I  can't  leave  them  in  the  lurch.  I've 
got  a  young  man  in  training  for  my  place,  and 
another  at  the  Battle-Axe.  There's  no  such  vio- 
lent hurry." 

"  And  then,  what  are  your  plans  ? " 

"  We'll  go  to  California  and  look  after  the 
property ;  curious,  my  having  property  to  look 
after,  isn't  it  ?  Beyond  that,  we'll  see.  Sat  die 
bonum  stium." 

"  You'll  want  to  stop  at  Tackville  on  the 
way,"  I  suggested.  "  But  how  about  securing  the 
Manor?" 

"  I  wrote  last  night  :  I  may  have  to  go  there 
soon.  And  I  might  stop  to  shake  hands  with 
Mrs.  Claybank  and  Major  Way  and  Rustler,  but 
that  it  would  look  like  flaunting;  the  natives 
would  think  I  thought  myself  a  better  man  than 
I  was  in  the  old  days,  and  had  come  to  show  off. 
I  judge  my  wife  will  be  content  to  take  Tackville 
and  Miletus  at  second  hand." 


344  Great  News. 

Here  a  sudden  thought  struck  me  ;  connubial 
relations  must  be  duly  respected.  "  Dick,  can  I 
go  up  and  call  on  Mrs.  Graf  ton  ? " 

"  Why  not  ?  She'll  be  glad  to  see  you,  of 
course.  It's  no  longer  necessary  to  keep  our 
friends  at  arm's  length,  thank  Heaven." 

"  It  never  was  necessary,"  Clinton  exclaimed 
in  his  uproarious  way ;  "  that  was  your  dashed 
pharisaism,  thinking  that  folks  who  chanced  to 
have  a  little  more  cash  than  you  couldn't  be  fit 
to  associate  with.  By  Jove,  Grafton,  if  you're 
going  to  acknowledge  me  as  a  friend  simply 
because  you've  come  into  this  bonanza,  you  may 
spare  yourself  the  trouble.  I  can  speak  for  sis 
and  the  old  people,  too ;  we're  no  more  your 
friends  now  than  we've  been  all  this  time,  only 
you  wouldn't  let  us  show  it." 

"  My  dear  boy,"  said  Dick  with  a  very  sweet 
smile,  "  I'm  quite  aware  of  it.  Having  made 
allowances  for  my  confounded  position  and  par- 
doned my  enforced  rudeness  through  these  four 
years,  you  needn't  quarrel  with  me  now.  I  was 
tied  hand  and  foot,  with  results  that  no  one  can 
appreciate  who  hasn't  been  disgustingly  and  lu- 
dicrously poor.  I'm  free  now,  and  one  of  the 
chief  pleasures  of  emancipation  is  that  it  will 
enable  me  to  show  my  respect  and  regard  for 
your  family."  He  made  his  grandest  bow,  and 
held  up  a  bumper  of  Pommery.  "  Permit  me  to 
drink  their  health,  and  yours."  We  responded 


Great  News.  345 

in  silence,  and  the  past  was  as  if  it  had  not 
been. 

"  Well,  Dick,"  I  presently  remarked,  "  this  new 
deal  suits  me  first  rate,  though  it  puts  you  well 
above  me  in  the  social  scale,  so  that  I'll  not  be 
justified  in  giving  you  any  more  advice.  But, 
if  I  may  criticise,  I  should  have  expected  some- 
thing more  original  from  you.  California  uncles 
are  commonplace." 

He  hardly  listened  to  this  observation,  the  play- 
ful character  of  which  was  intended  to  rouse  him 
to  a  frame  of  mind  befitting  the  festive  occasion. 
"  Had  it  been  left  to  me,  I  should  have  arranged 
it  differently,  as  I've  hinted.  For  myself  it 
doesn't  matter,  but  my  wife  has  never  been  able 
to  get  about  as  I  should  like,  or  to  indulge  her 
taste  in  bonnets.  She's  young  yet,  however,  and 
this  comes  in  time  for  the  children." 

"  The  children  ? "  Clinton  exclaimed,  with  the 
thoughtless  roughness  of  a  man  whose  domestic 
experience  is  but  just  begun.  "What  the — O 
yes,  I  see  ;  I  beg  pardon.  Of  course,"  and  he 
laughed  awkwardly. 

"It  doesn't  matter,  Dick,"  I  said  soothingly; 
"you  can  afford  such  things  now." 

A  virginal  blush  mounted  to  his  brow.  "  Well, 
you  see  it's  best  to  have  more  than  one,  in  case 
of  accidents  — when  there  is  anything  to  inherit." 

I  understood  his  feelings  perfectly  :  he  could 
not  at  once  break  from  the  old  sense  of  being 


346  Great  News. 

bound  to  apologize  for  any  imprudence  to  friends 
who  might  possibly  (though  not  by  his  volition) 
in  one  way  or  another  have  to  pay  the  bill ;  and  he 
had  got  a  little  mixed,  as  the  brightest  intellects 
will  at  times,  for  the  excuse  he  offered  applied 
only  to  his  newly  arrived  condition,  which  re- 
moved the  necessity  of  any. 

We  parted  from  De  Grout,  and  walked  back 
toward  Lore  Street.  "  I  didn't  care  to  say  it  before 
Clinton,"  Dick  went  on,  "  but  this  takes  a  dread- 
ful load  from  my  mind.  Now  I  can  get  out  of  the 
treadmill,  and  do  as  I  please.  If  only  Mr.  Prance 
had  lived  to  see  this  !  You've  always  taken  vaca- 
tions when  you  liked,  Bob,  and  been  free  to  go 
and  come,  so  you  can't  understand  what  it  is  to 
be  my  own  man."  He  raised  himself  to  his  full 
height,  and  shook  off  as  it  were  a  stoop  which  his 
shoulders  had  contracted  of  late. 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  now  you  can  work  in  your  own 
way,  and  think  about  making  a  position  and  a 
name."  This  I  said,  thinking  to  chime  in  with  his 
views  in  the  way  of  literary  ambition  ;  but  it  did 
not  seem  to  please  him. 

"  The  Grafton  name  is  good  enough  for  me,  now 
that  it  no  longer  covers  a  beggar.  I  don't  care 
for  your  positions,  old  man,  and  the  work  may  go 
hang.  I  want  to  get  away  from  it  all,  and  look  at 
life  dispassionately  from  outside,  as  I've  not  been 
able  to  do  since  I  was  a  boy.  And  I  want  to  see 
something  of  my  wife,  and  give  her  open  air  and 


Great  News.  347 

sunshine  :  she's  been   shut  up  in  a  vault  so  far, 
poor  child.     Then  my  boy  —  or  my  boys,  perhaps 

—  must  grow  up  in  a  very  different  atmosphere 
from  what  their  parents  have  been  breathing.    The 
thing  for  us  is  to  wander  about,  and  have  the  Ma- 
nor to  fall  back  on  when  we're  tired  of  travelling1 

O 

—  for  one  must  have  the  home  feeling,  you  know 

—  and  come  to  a  hotel  here  in  the  fall.     Yes,  I 
think  a  week  or  two  in  the  year  will  be  enough 
for  New  York." 

"  That's  a  pretty  good  program,  Dick,  except 
that  we  shall  see  too  little  of  you.  But  I  should 
think  you'd  want  to  write  some  books  and  things 

—  by  and  by,  after  you've  rested  a  bit.      You'll 
have  a  vantage-ground  now,  and  I  presume  Lybert 
\\  ould  be  glad  to  publish  "em." 

"  Not  now,  thank  you,  and  probably  never. 
What  have  I  to  say  to  the  world  ?  Simply  that 
I  am  bored  and  that  it  is  a  humbug.  Let  me  get 
off  to  the  woods  and  waters  and  rehabilitate.  I'm 
sick  of  ink  and  paper  :  I  can  buy  all  the  literature 
I'll  want  for  months  to  come  of  the  trainboys  and 
at  the  news-stands." 

I  was  received  with  unprecedented  cordiality  in 
East  Sixteenth  Street,  and  spent  a  most  agreeable 
hour.  "  Do  you  know,"  Mrs.  Grafton  said  —  she 
had  caught  certain  tricks  of  speech  from  her  father 
and  her  husband  —  "  that  I've  had  a  weight  on  my 
conscience  all  this  time  ?  When  I  married,  I  was 


348  Great  News. 

so  young,  and  so  ignorant  of  practical  things,  it 
never  occurred  to  me  that  I  was  coming  between 
Dick  and  his  friends,  and  might  be  spoiling  his 
life.  I  suppose  you  thought  me  dreadfully  selfish 
and  unprincipled  and  designing,  now  didn't  you  ? 

—  though,  goodness  knows,  he  was  no  great  catch 
then,  and  I  never  dreamed  of  such  luck  as  this. 
I've   thought   a   great   deal   since,    and    it   seems 
incredible  I    should   have  been  so  stupid ;   but  it 
seemed  perfectly  natural  and  right  then,  and  he's 
so  firm  and  positive  that  if  I  had  resisted  it  would 
have  been  of  no  use,  probably.     But  when  I  real- 
ized that  I  had    cut   him  off  from  his  friends,  I 
knew  that  wasn't  right,  and  it  troubled  me.     They 
couldn't   come   here  —  O,  I  know   you  tried,  but 
you   didn't   feel   comfortable,    and   what   was   the 
use  ?     It  was  my  fault,  and  I  felt  very  badly  about 
it ;  but  he  wouldn't  go  anywhere  without  me,  and 

—  he's   so  patient,  you  know.     It  doesn't  matter 
about  me,  but  O,  I'm  so  glad   for   his  sake  that 
he's  come   to  his   own  !     I  speak   to   you  as   his 
oldest  friend,  and  I  want   you  to  know  that  he 
was  never  ungrateful  or  disloyal  —  it  isn't  in  him 
to  be  that.     And  I  want  his  friends  to  share  in 
our  joy  over  his  good  fortune.     You  understand, 
don't  you  ? " 

"  That's  all  right,"  I  hastened  to  assure  her,  and 
explained  that  De  Grout  and  myself  had  been 
with  Dick  but  two  hours  before.  In  my  secret 
heart  I  was  much  indebted  to  her  for  thus  tak- 


Great  News. 


349 


ing  the  whole  responsibility  for  any  coolness  or 
estrangement  that  might  have  appeared  to  exist. 
These  terms  are  too  strong,  for  I  had  carefully 
avoided  any  breach  between  us  ;  but  when  a  stock 
goes  up  suddenly  and  violently  like  this,  you  feel 
remorseful  for  not  having  invested  in  it  more 
heavily  while  it  was  down.  "  You  don't  mean 
to  stay  here,  of  course,"  I  asked  somewhat 
anxiously. 

"  No,"  she  replied.  "  Dick  wants  to  stay  till 
we  leave  the  city,  and  it's  the  only  home  I  can 
remember,  but  I  will  not  keep  him  any  longer 
from  his  true  position.  Of  course  we  will  keep 
the  books  and  pictures  and  furniture  —  all  that 
was  my  father's ;  they  can  be  stored  till  we  are 
ready  to  send  them  to  the  Manor."  The  pride  with 
which  she  said  'the  Manor,'  as  if  she  had  also 
been  born  and  bred  there,  was  touching  ;  I  remem- 
bered that  the  Prances  too  had  been  Somebody 
once,  and  now  their  solitary  remnant  was  coming 
to  her  own  as  well  as  the  last  Grafton.  "  I  want 
to  go  there,  if  it  is  possible,  before  we  start  for 
California.  We  will  make  our  home  there,  you 
know ;  that  is  the  place  for  his  boy  to  grow  up  in. 
But  meanwhile  we  shall  go  to  a  hotel  just  as  soon 
as  I  can  persuade  Dick  to  it.  O  yes,  you  can 
trust  me  for  that,"  she  added  confidently,  "  and  he 
will  let  you  know  as  soon  as  we  move." 

I  renewed  my  congratulations  on  the  windfall. 
"  Dick  says  he  cares  for  it  chiefly  on  your  account. 


350  Great  Nezvs. 

He  wants   you   to    see   people,    and    things,    and 
places." 

"Yes,  that  is  his  view,"  she  said  very  brightly ; 
"he  so  is  unselfish.  It  will  be  a  great  change,  of 
course,  and  no  doubt  I  shall  enjoy  it ;  but  I  don't 
care  very  much  about  meeting  people.  I  have 
always  been  contented,  and  a  wife  lives  for  her 
husband.  I  am  glad  because  he  will  be  free  now, 
and  not  have  to  work  so  hard  all  day  and  most  of 
the  evening,  but  be  able  to  follow  his  own  tastes. 
You  know,"  she  said  with  brave  simplicity,  "  he  is 
a  very  able  man.  My  father  often  said  he  had  too 
fine  an  intellect  to  be  chained  to  mere  drudgery  at 
the  desk.  I  didn't  understand  it  then,  a  girl  takes 
things  so  for  granted  ;  but  I've  often  thought 
since,  that  poor  father  never  escaped  that  drudgery 
himself,  and  feared  Dick  never  would.  And  now 
I  thank  God  that  he  has  escaped  it  before  his  mind 
was  stunted,  and  his  spirits  broken,  and  his  youth 
and  health  entirely  gone.  Didn't  you  know  I 
would  feel  that  way  about  it  ?  "  she  cried,  for  I  was 
looking  at  her  in  some  surprise  at  this  vehemence. 
"  Did  you  suppose  I  would  think  of  myself  in  com- 
parison with  him  ?  Why,  he  is  the  best  man  in 
the  world.  Of  course  he  comes  first :  who  else 
should  I  think  of?" 

"Well,"  I  said  suggestively,  "there's  the  boy." 
She  laughed.     "  O,  that's  entirely  different.     I 
don't  suppose  you  could  understand,  being  a  man  : 
one  loves  a  child  ever  so  much,  and  does  every- 


Great  News.  351 

thing  for  him,  but  others  might  take  an  equal 
place  in  your  heart  —  without  your  caring  any  less 
for  him,  I  mean."  She  blushed  a  little.  "Some 
mothers,  you  know,  have  several.  But  one's  hus- 
band is  separate,  and  nobody  could  ever  be  like 
him  —  not  possibly.  O,  I  can't  explain  it;  per- 
haps your  wife  can.  O  yes,  certainly,  I'm  glad 
that  Archie  will  have  an  easier  time  than  his 
father  has  had  ;  but  I  mean  to  bring  him  up  to  be 
exactly  like  his  father." 

"  There's  another  thing,"  I  said,  "  that  maybe 
you  can  effect,  and  nobody  else  can.  Dick  has 
very  fine  brains,  as  you  say,  but  he  lacks  ambition. 
I  want  him  to  write  a  book  or  two,  or  do  some- 
thing to  distinguish  himself,  and  show  what's  in 
him.  We've  often  talked  it  over ;  and  now  he  has 
a  fine  chance,  but  he  wont  hear  of  it  —  says  he's 
sick  of  ink  and  paper." 

"Naturally,"  she  answered;  "but  he'll  get  over 
that  feeling,  I  think,  and  use  his  pen  in  a  higher 
way.  He's  so  tired  now,  poor  boy;  but  I  have 
some  ambition  for  him,  if  he  hasn't.  I  knew  you 
appreciated  him.  Of  course  his  mind  can't  be 
idle,  and  the  world  ought  to  know  him.  I  think  I 
can  manage  that  in  time." 


CHAPTER     XLII. 

A    LAME    CONCLUSION. 

I  WENT  home  with  my  mental  equilibrium 
somewhat  disturbed  (for  I  had  always  thought  of 
Dick's  wife  in  the  light  of  a  mistake  and  an  in- 
cumbrance),  and  sought  to  regain  a  proper  tone  in 
the  bosom  of  my  family,  by  a  relation  of  the  day's 
events,  omitting  De  Grout's  improper  language. 
The  ladies  of  my  household  had  seen  very  much 
less  of  Dick  than  I  had,  but  I  thought  any  news 
would  gratify  them. 

"  Well,"  said  Clarice,  when  my  judicious  abridg- 
ment was  finished,  "  Mr.  Grafton  has  fallen  in  my 
opinion.  From  all  you  have  told  us  about  him,  I 
should  have  expected  him  to  do  something  strik- 
ing, and  this  is  so  vulgarly  flat  and  feeble.  Rich 
uncles  are  continually  dying  in  the  West  ;  it 
happens  to  every  other  carpenter  and  laundress." 

"It  never  happened  to  us  yet,  dear,"  my  wife 
urged.  "Still,  as  you  say,  it  was  an  ordinary 
thing  to  do  ;  but  I  suppose  they  don't  mind  that, 
as  they  couldn't  afford  to  be  particular." 


A  Lame  Conclusion.  353 

"  Would  you  have  had  the  poor  man  die  of 
brain  fever,  and  leave  his  widow  and  orphan  to 
charity  ?  "  asked  my  sister  Jane.  "  That  was  not 
unlikely  to  occur,  I  understand,  if  this  good  for- 
tune had  not  come  to  them." 

"  It  would  be  more  picturesque,"  said  Clarice, 
"  more  harmonious.  I  have  never  met  him,  but 
Robert  said  he  was  a  cultivated  person,  and  far 
from  commonplace  ;  and  this  was  such  a  stale  and 
greasy  thing  to  do.  Probably  the  money  was 
made  in  groceries." 

"Let  us  trust  not,"  I  said.  "I  don't  believe  a 
Grafton  would  stoop  to  that,  and  Dick  shares  your 
effete  antipathy  to  trade.  More  likely  by  gam- 
bling and  murdering  about  th'e  mines  ;  that  would 
more  nearly  meet  your  views,  Clarice.  The  old 
man  was  a  tough  customer,  it  is  said.  I  urged 
your  objection  to  his  accepting  the  legacy;  but  it 
really  isn't  Dick's  fault  that  he  had  an  uncle  in 
California.  He  said  he  would  have  fixed  it  differ- 
ently if  it  had  been  left  to  him ;  give  him  credit 
for  that." 

"  I  presume,"  Clarice  languidly  went  on,  "  you 
think  the  uncle  ought  to  have  died  four  years  ago 
and  let  your  friend  marry  Edith  De  Grout." 

"That's  just  the  way  Robert  would  feel  about 
it,  of  course,"  Jane  chimed  in.  "Did  you  advise 
him  to  stop  at  Chicago  on  his  way  out  and  get  a 
divorce,  brother  ? " 

"  No,"  I  replied  calmly,  for  I  was  used  to  these 


354  A  Lame  Conclusion. 

carpings.  "  His  present  wife  is  good  enough  for 
him.  In  fact,  my  opinion  of  her  has  altered  ;  she's 
improved  wonderfully." 

"In  looks,  do  you  mean  ? "  they  all  asked. 

"  Yes ;  in  looks,  and  manners,  and  intelligence, 
and  character.  She  received  me  most  courteously, 
and  talked  with  charming  frankness.  There  was  a 
delicate  flush  on  her  cheek,  and  a  fine  soft  light  in 
her  eye.  Her  hair  was  always  good,  for  a  blonde, 
and  she  has  a  nice  neck  and  shoulders,  and  small 
hands.  She  wouldn't  compare  with  any  of  you,  of 
course,  but  she's  entirely  a  lady,  and  some  might 
call  her  almost  beautiful." 

"  Then  that  accounts  for  it,"  Jane  cried.  "  She 
never  was  polite  to  Robert  before,  fearing,  no  doubt, 
that  he  would  lead  her  husband  astray.  Now  they 
are  going  off,  she  wants  to  part  on  friendly  terms, 
which  is  to  her  credit,  I'm  sure  ;  and  any  tolerable- 
looking  woman  who  is  decently  civil  to  him  he 
thinks  an  angel." 

"  Jane,"  I  said  mildly,  "  Mahomet  must  have 
been  acquainted  with  you  in  some  pre-existent 
state."  My  wife  asked  why,  and  I  explained  that 
that  fact  would  account  for  his  excluding  ladies 
from  the  heaven  of  his  persuasion.  "  If  he  had 
met  only  women  like  you,  and  Clarice  when  she 
behaves  herself,  and  Mrs.  Grafton,  he  would  have 
known  better.  But,"  I  went  on,  "  you  ought  to 
call  on  her  now." 

"Why,"  said  Mabel,  "Jane  and  I  were  going 
there  long  ago,  and  you  wouldn't  let  us," 


A  Lame  Conclusion.  355 

"  She  didn't  want  visitors  in  those  small  rooms, 
and  you  wouldn't  either  if  you  had  to  live  in  such 
a  place,  which  God  forbid.  But  now  they  are  go- 
ing to  a  hotel,  and  she'll  be  ready  to  receive.  You 
see,  the  situation  is  totally  changed.  They  both 
came  of  very  good  stock,  and  now  they'll  be  where 
they  would  have  been  all  along,  if  their  parents 
had  had  more  sense." 

"  So  they  were  a  prince  and  princess  in  disguise, 
were  they  ?  "  Clarice  inquired. 

"  Just  so  ;  so  disguised  that  you  never  would 
have  known  them  —  through  no  particular  fault  of 
their  own.  But  now  they've  come  out  in  their 
proper  character,  and  are  to  be  respected  accord- 
ingly. I  want  you  all  to  remember  that." 

Dick  and  his  wife  had  to  attend  sundry  domestic 
dinings,  at  which  she  acquitted  herself  as  credit- 
ably as  if  she  had  been  brought  up  in  society ; 
a  certain  unconventional  freshness  about  her 
called  forth  only  admiration  from  the  men,  and 
sympathetic  no  less  than  hostile  comments  from 
her  own  sex.  It  was  interesting  to  see  how  many 
people  now  recalled  Grafton's  existence ;  Van 
Snoozer  and  a  hundred  others,  some  of  whom 
neither  he  nor  I  could  remember.  But  he  was 
cool  to  all  except  the  De  Grouts  and  my  family. 

"  I've  known  you  through  fair  weather  and 
foul,"  he  said,  "principally  the  latter,  and  we're 
not  going  to  part  now.  But  I  don't  care  for  new 
acquaintances,  and  as  for  those  who  value  a  man 


A  Lame  Conclusion. 

by  his  bank  account,  let  them  go  to  the  bank  and 
nose  it  over ;  they  and  I  haven't  two  ideas  in 
common."  But  I  made  him  see  that  such  rational- 
ism was  vulgar  and  levelling,  and  that  he  now  had 
a  stake  in  the  community,  involving  certain  duties. 

"  Remember,  you've  got  the  Grafton  name  to 
keep  up,"  I  said  :  "  that  implies  an  exchange  of 
courtesies  with  your  peers.  The  money  is  merely 
the  outward  and  visible  sign  of  gentility  :  without 
the  sign,  you  couldn't  expect  to  be  recognized ; 
with  it,  you  take  and  keep  your  proper  place." 
He  growled  and  grumbled,  and  I  think  hastened 
his  departure  ;  but  that  touch-me-not  air,  which 
Mrs.  Claybank  had  noticed  at  Tackville  and  Jan- 
dyke  at  Miletus,  sat  well  upon  him  now,  and  a 
certain  hauteur,  which  he  put  on  to  guard  against 
intruders,  added  to  his  importance. 

His  wife  came  to  be  great  friends  with  Edith 
and  her  mother,  and  was  made  much  of  in  his  an- 
tique manner  by  the  senior  De  Grout.  "Madam," 
said  he,  "  I  knew  your  father  well,  long  before 
you  were  born  ;  his  reverses  and  determined 
withdrawal  from  society  were  a  source  of  grief  to 
myself  and  others,  who  sought  in  vain  to  lure  him 
from  his  retirement.  He  was  the  soul  of  honor, 
but  a  prouder  man  never  lived.  Your  husband 
is  not  unlike  him.  My  dear  —  if  you  will  let 
me  call  you  so  —  teach  your  children,  in  happy 
days  to  come,  that  pride  has  its  limits  ;  it  is  a 
good  armor  of  defence,  but  not  a  weapon  to  be 


A  Lame  Conclusion.  357 

turned  against  one's  friends.  Your  mother  was 
one  of  the  loveliest  women  of  her  day  ;  you  have 
her  eyes,  her  forehead.  Her  grandfather  married 
a  distant  cousin  of  my  own,  so  that  I  may  claim 
you  as  a  relative.  I  trust  that  you  will  not  yield 
to  the  charm  of  California  ;  it  is  a  fine  country, 
but  too  new.  Grafton  Manor  is  not  so  far  away, 
and  next  summer  we  rely  on  your  spending  some 
weeks  at  Oaklands." 

Clinton  and  I,  being  satiated  with  these  correct 
festivities,  determined  on  a  little  stag  party  at 
Delmonico's  on  the  eve  of  Dick's  going.  Mr. 
Lybert  heard  of  the  plan,  and,  somewhat  to  our 
disgust,  begged  to  be  admitted  on  the  ground 
floor,  a  favor  which  we  saw  no  way  to  refuse. 
The  worthy  publisher,  unaccustomed  to  these  re- 
laxations, became  effusive,  and  made  a  tearful 
speech  over  his  late  employe".  "  A  brilliant  young 
man,"  he  said  ;  "  a  most  excellent  man,  an  inval- 
uable man,  whose  loss  to  the  city  will  be  deeply 
and  widely  felt.  His  departure  leaves  an  aching 
void  in  all  our  breasts,  and  most  of  all  in  mine. 
Gentlemen,  his  was  the  master  mind  to  superin- 
tend all  our  periodicals.  I  offered  him  a  partner- 
ship, sirs,  which  he  refused,  as  Caesar  did  the 
kingly  crown." 

"  Dick,"  Clinton  remarked  as  we  turned  home- 
ward, "it  would  appear  that  you're  considerable 
pumpkins  of  a  huckleberry,  after  all.  Did  the 
boss  really  want  you  in  the  firm  ?  " 


358  A  Lame  Conclusion. 

"O,"  Dick  returned  lightly,  "he's  enlarging  his 
business,  and  it  would  meet  his  views  to  have  my 
uncle's  cash  added  to  the  capital  ;  but  it  didn't 
meet  mine  to  go  in.  Speaking  poetically,  I'm  not 
on  that  lay." 

"I  guess  not,"  said  young  De  Grout.  "When 
you  want  to  go  into  business,  there's  ours.  If 
you'd  had  any  leaning  that  way,  we'd  have  taken 
you  in  long  ago,  and  made  a  partner  of  you  before 
now,  and  be  dashed  to  your  million.  Do  you 
know  that,  man  of  sin  ? " 

"  I  don't  doubt  it,  dear  boy,"  said  Dick. 

I  do  not  believe  Grafton  will  ever  amount  to 
anything.  He  is  a  very  good  fellow,  and  greatly 
respected  now,  of  course,  and  enjoying  life  rather 
more  than  he  did  of  old  ;  but  he  has  no  earnest- 
ness, no  faith,  no  real  respect  for  the  established 
Order  of  Things.  His  boys  will  probably  come 
to  something,  because  they  have  their  mother's 
blood  in  them,  and  are  getting  her  training  ;  but 
if  Dick  ever  wakes  from  his  dream,  and  comes 
into  sympathy  with  the  Cosmos,  and  asserts  him- 
self by  taking  some  voluntary  part  in  it,  it  will  be 
his  wife's  doing. 

THE    END. 


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that  they  have  received  a  rare  gift." 

MM.  Erckmann-Chatrian  have  depicted  the  feverish  excitement  of  France 
during  the  height  of  Napoleon's  meteor-like  blaze  :  this  equally  powerful  ro- 
mance shows  the  reaction  in  Germany  immediately  after  his  downfall,  when 
the  pulse  of  Europe  was  striving  to  regain  its  normal  beat. 

THE   MONK'S  WEDDING.    A  novel.    By  C.   F.   MEYER.     Cr.    8vo 

unique  binding,  gilt  top.    $1.25. 

This  is  an  Italian  story,  written  by  a  German,  and  translated  by  an  American, 
and  purports  to  be  narrated  by  the  poet  Dante  at  the  hospitable  hearth  of  his 
j-a'ron,  Can  Grande.  He  evolved  it  from  an  inscription  on  a  gravestone : 
"  Hie  jacet  monachus  Astorre  cum  uxore  Antiope.  Sepeliebat  Azzolinus " 
(Here  sleeps  the  monk  Astorre  with  his  wife  Antiope.  Ezzelin  gave  them 


difficulty  in  conjuring  up  what  a  gnm,  lurid  tale  of  secret  cnme  and  suffering  a 
"  Monk's  Wedding  "  is  sure  to  be.  It  is  of  sustained  and  absorbing  interest,  full 
of  delicate  touches  and  flashes  of  passion,  a  tragedy  which  cannot  fail  to  leave 
an  impression  of  power  upon  the  mind. 

WORKS  BY  WILLIAM  H.  RIDEING. 

THACKERAY'S  LONDON:  HIS  HAUNTS  AND  THE 
SCENES  OF  HIS  NOVELS.  With  two  original  Portraits  (etched 
and  engraved);  a  fac-simile  of  a  page  of  the  original  manuscript  of  "The 
Newcomes  ;  "  together  with  several  exquisitely  engraved  woodcuts,  i  vol, 
square  i2mo.  Cloth,  gilt  top,  in  box.  $1.00.  Fourth  Edition, 

LITTLE  UPSTART,  A.     A  Novel.     Third  edition.  i6mo.  Cloth.   $1.25. 

"  As  a  study  of  literary  and  would-be  literary  life  it  is  positively  brilliant- 
Many  well-known  figures  are  drawn  with  a  few  sweeping  touches.  Tke  book, 
as  a  story,  is  interesting  enough  for  the  most  experienced  taste,  and,  as  a  satire, 
it  is  manly  and  healthy."  — John  Boyle  O'Reilly. 

"  Notably  free  from  the  least  sensationalism  or  unnaturalness.  .  .  Flashes  of 
sterling  wit,  with  touches  of  exquisite  pathos,  and  with  a  quiet  mastery  of  style 
which  I  have  rarely  seen  surpassed  in  American  fiction  and  seldom  equalled. 
The  incidental  bits  of  philosophy,  observation,  and  keen  worldly  knowledge 
have  few  parallels  in  our  literature.". —  Edgar  Fa-wcett. 

Clippies  and  Hurd,        R0oLSeihrS,  BOSTON. 

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LIVES   CF  FIVE   DISTINGUISHED   AMERICANS.     THE   ONLY 
BIOGRAPHIES    EXTANT. 

ivIATTHEWCALBRAITH  PERRY.  A  typical  American  Xaval  Officer. 
By  WILLIAM  ELLIOT  GRIFFIS,  author  of  "The  Mikado's  Empire,"  and 
"  Corea:  the  Hermit  Nation."  Cr.  Svo,  459  pages,  gilt  top,  with  two  por- 
traits and  seven  illustrations.  £2.00. 

"  Sure  of  favorable  reception,  and  a  permanent  place  in  public  and  private 
libraries." — .iV.  V.  Evening  Post. 

"  Of  unusual  value  to  every  student  of  American  history." — Nat.  Baptist. 

"  One  of  the  best  books  of  the  year." — Public  Ot>iniott. 

"  His  biography  will  be  one  of  the  naval  classics." — Army  and  Navy 
Jon  rnal. 

"  Has  done  his  work  right  well." — Chicago  Evening Jmirnal. 

"  Highly  entertaining  audins:ructive.'r — Universalist  Quarterly. 

THADDEUS    STEVENS,     AMERICAN    STATESMAN,    AND 
FOUNDER  OF  THE  REPUBLICAN  PARTY.    A  Memoir  by 
E.  B.  CALLENDAR.    \Vith  portrait.    Cr.  Svo.    Cloth,  gilt  top.    £1.50. 
A  biography  of  one  of  the  most  interesting  characters  in  the  whole  range  of 
American  politics,  whose  work  must  be  understood  thoroughly  to  gain  accurate 
knowledge  of  the  secret  forces  operating  during  his  times,  1792  to  1869. 

JOHN  HOWARD  PAYNE.  A  Biography  of  the  author  of  "Home, 
Sweet  Home,"  by  CHAS.  H.  BRAINAKU.  With  four  portraits  from  minia- 
tures and  other  sources,  fac-simile  of  manuscript,  "  Home,  Sweet  Home," 
and  photographic  illustrations  of  his  tomb  at  Washington,  etc.,  etc.  Svo. 
Cloth  elegant,  gilt  top,  in  box.  $3.00. 

Apart  from  the  remembrance  and  regard  in  which  the  author  of  "  Home, 
Sweet  Home  "  is  held  by  the  world,  this  biography  will  possess  additional  inte- 
rest from  the  fact  that  it  is  written  under  the  direct  editorshin  of  W.  W.  Cor- 
coran, the  late  eminent  philanthropist,  who  provided  the  funds  for  the  removal 
of  the  poet's  body  from  Africa  to  Washington. 

THE  LIFE  OF  ADMIRAL  SIR  ISAAC  COFFIN,  BARONET; 
HIS  ENGLISH  AND  AMERICAN  ANCESTORS.  By  THOMAS 
C.  AMORY.  With  portrait.  Large  Svo.  $1.15. 

The  name  of  Coffin  is  so  widely  spread  over  our  continent,  so  many  thous- 
ands of  men  and  women  of  other  patronymics  take  pride  in  their  descent  from 
Tristram,  its  first  American  patriarch,  that  what  concerns  them  all,  any  consid- 
erable branch  or  distinguished  individual  of  the  race,  seems  rather  history  than 
biography. 

THE     AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF     COMMODORE    CHARLES 

MORRIS,      tl'ith    helMype  portrait  after  Ary  Schtffer.       i  vol.  Svo. 
in  pages.    $1.00. 

A  valuable  addition  to  the  literature  of  American  history  ;  a  biography  of 
one  who,  in  the  words  of  Admiral  Farragut,  was  "America's  grandest  seaman." 

Cupples  and  Hurd,         BookSiier*,  BOSTON. 

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HOW  TO  WRITE  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  FAMILY.    By  w.  P. 

W.    PHILLIMORE,  M.  A.,  B.  C.  L.     i  vol.     Cr.  8vo.     Tastefully  printed  in 
untiqui  style,  handsomely  bound.    $2.00. 

Unassuming,  practical,  essentially  useful,  Mr.  Phillimore's  book  should  be  in 
the  hands  of  every  one  who  aspires  to  search  for  his  ancestors  and  to  learn  his 
family  history. — Athenaum. 

This  is  the  best  compendious  genealogist's  guide  that  has  yet  been  published, 
and  Mr.  Phillimore  deserves  the  thanks  and  appreciation  of  all  lovers  of  family 
history.  — Reliquary. 

Notice.  — Large  Paper  Edition.  A  few  copies,  en  hand-made  paper,  wide  mar- 
gins, bound  in  half  morocco,  may  be  obtained,  price  $6.50  net. 

THE  KINSHIP  OF  MEN:  An  Argument  from  Pedigrees ;  or,  Genealogy 
Viewed  as  a  Science.  By  HENRY  KENDALL.  Cr.  Svo.  Cloth,  $2.00. 

The  old  pedigree-hunting  was  a  sign  of  pride  and  pretension ;  the  modern  is 
simply  dictated  by  the  desire  to  know  whatever  can  be  known.  The  one 
advanced  itself  by  the  methods  of  immoral  advocacy ;  the  other  proceeds  by 
those  of  scientific  research.  —  Spectator  (London). 

RECORDS  AND  RECORD  SEARCHING.    A  Guide  to  the  Genealo- 
gist and  Topographer.     By  WALTER  RYE.     Svo,  cloth.     Price  $2.50. 
This  book  places  in  the  hands  of  the  Antiquary  and  Genealogist,  and  others 
interested  in  kindred  studies,  a  comprehensive  guide  to  the  enormous  mass  of 
material  which  is  available  in  his  researches,  showing  what  it  consists  of,  ant1 
where  it  can  be  found. 

ANCESTRAL  TABLETS.  A  Collections  of  Diagrams  for  Pedigrees,  so 
arranged  that  Eight  Generations  of  the  Ancestors  of  any  Person  may  be 
recorded  in  a  connected  and  simple  form.  By  WILLIAM  H.  WHITMORE, 
A.M.  SEVENTH  EDITION.  On  lieavy  parchment  paper,  large  jto, 
tastefully  and  strongly  Bound,  Roxburgh  style.  Price  $2.00. 

"  No  one  with  the  least  bent  for  genealogical  research  ever  examined  this  in- 

feniously  compact  substitute  for  the  '  family  tree '  without  longing  to  own  it. 
t  provides  for  the  recording  of  eight  lineal  generations,  and  is  a  perpetual 
incentive  to  the  pursuit  of  one's  ancestry."  —  Nation. 

THE  ELEMENTS  OF  HERALDRY.  A  practical  manual,  showing 
what  heraldry  is,  where  it  comes  from,  and  to  what  extent  it  is  applicable  to 
American  usage;  to  which  is  added  a  Glossary  in  English,  French  and 
Latin  of  the  forms  employed.  Profusely  Illustrated.  By  W.  H. 
WHITMORE,  author  of  "  Ancestral  Tablets,"  etc.  \_Inpress. 

Cupplts  and  Hurd,        Boolleiiers,  BOSTON. 

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RALPH   WALDO  EMERSON,  PHILOSOPHER  AND  SEBR.    An  Estimate 

of  his  Character  and  Genius.     By  A.  BRONSON  ALCOTT. 
With  portraits  aitd other  illustrations.     Foolscap  octavo.  Gilt  toj>.  $1.50. 
One  hundred  copies  mill  be  printed  on  larger  and  finer  paper,  Svo,  suitable 
for  the  insertion  of  extra  illustrations.     Bound  in  Roxburgh,  gilt  top.     Price 
to  Subscribers,    $^.oo. 

A  book  about  Emerson,  written  by  the  one  man  who  stood  nearest  to  him  of 
all  men.  It  is  an  original  and  vital  contribution  to  Einersoma  ;  like  a  rortrait 
of  one  of  the  old  masters  painted  by  his  own  brush.  [/«  J'ras. 

HERMAN  GRIMM'S  WORKS. 

THE  LIFE  OF  RAPHAEL  as  shown  in  his  principal  works.  From  the 
German  of  HERMAN  GRIMM,  r.uthor  of  "The  Life  of  Michael  Angelo," 
etc.  With  frontispiece,  after  Crann,  of  the  recently  discovered  portrait, 
outlined  by  Raphael  in  chalk.  Cr.  Svo.  Cloth.  £2.00. 

ESSAYS  ON  LITERATURE.  From  the  German  of  HKRMAN  CMMM, 
uniform  with  "The  Life  of  Raphael."  New  and  enlarged  edition,  care- 
fully corrected.  Cr.  Svo.  Cloth.  $2.00. 


BY  JAMES  II.  STARK. 

ANTIQUE  VIEWS  OF  YE  TOWNE  OF  BOSTON.    By  JAMES  H. 

STARK,  Assisted  by  Dr.  SAMUEL  A.  GREEN,  Ex-Mayor  o£  Boston,  Libra- 
rian of  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society;  JOHN  WARD  DEAN,  Libra- 
rian of  the  New  England  Historic  Genealogical  Society;  find  Judge 
MELLEN  CIIA.MHERLAIN,  of  the  Public  Library.  An  extensive  and  exhaust- 
ive -work  in  378  pages.  Large  quarto.  Illustrated  with  nearly  zoo  full 
size  reproductions  of  all  known  rare  maps,  old  prints,  fti .  /  vtl.  4/0. 
Cloth.  $6.00. 

BERMUDA  GUIDE.  A  description  of  everything  on  or  about  the  Ber- 
muda Islands,  concerning  which  the  visitor  or  resident  may  desire  informa- 
tion, including  its  history,  inhabitants,  climate,  agriculture,  geology, 
government,  military  and  naval  establishments.  By  JAMES  H.  STARK. 
With  Maps,  Engravings  and  16  plioto-prints.  i  vol.  121110,  cloth, 

157  PP-       #2.00. 

PAUL  REVERE:  Historical  and  Legendary.  By  EuiumcE  H.  Coss. 
With  reproductions  of  many  of  Revere 's  engravings,  etc.  [In  frets. 

A  DIRECTORY  OF  THE  CHARITABLE  AND  BENEFICENT 
ORGANIZATIONS  OF  BOSTON,  ETC.  Prepared  for  the  Asso. 

ciated  Charities,     i  vol.,  196  pp.  i6mo.     Cloth,  £1.00. 

Cupples  and  Hurd,      "  B%&u*r*t  BOSTON, 

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PROF.  CLARK  MURRAY'S   WORKS. 

SOLOMON  MAIMON:  An  Autobiography.  Translated  from  the  Ger- 
man, with  Additions  and  Notes,  by  Prof.  J.  CLAKK  MURRAY,  i  vol. 
Cr.  8vo.  Cloth.  307  pp.  $2.00. 

A  life  -which  forms  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  biographies  in  the  history 
vf  literature. 

The  London  Spectator  says:  "Dr.  Clark  Murray  has  had  the  rare  good 
fortune  of  first  presenting  this  singularly  vivid  book  in  an  English  translation 
as  pure  and  lively  as  if  it  were  an  original,  and  an  original  by  a  classic 
English  writer. 

George  Eliot,  in  "Daniel  Deronda,"  mentions  it  as  "that  wonderful  bit  of 
autobiography  —  the  life  of  the  Polish  Jew,  Solomon  Maimon  "  ;  and  Milman, 
in  his  "  History  of  the  Jews,"  refers  to  it  as  a  curious  and  rare  book. 

HANDBOOK    OF    PSYCHOLOGY.     By  Prof.  J.  CLARK  MURRAY, 
LL  D.,   Professor   of   Mental  and    Moral    Philosophy,    M'Gill    College, 
Montreal.     Cr.  8vo.     zd  edition,  enlarged  and  improved,     $i-75* 
Clearly  and  simply  written,  with  illustrations  so  well  chosen  that  the  dullest 

student  can  scarcely  fail  to  take  an  interest  in  the  subject. 

ADOPTED  FOR  USE  IN  COLLEGES  IN  SCOTLAND,  ENGLAND, 
CANADA,  AND  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

Prof.  Murray's  good  fortune  in  bringing  to  light  the  "  ATaimon  Memoirs" 
'.ogcthcr  with  the  increasing  popularity  of  his  "Handbook  of  Psychology"  ha\ 
ittracted  the  attention  of  the  intelleitnal  ivorld,  giving  him  a  position 
with  the  leaders  of  thonght  of  the  present  age.  His  writings  are  at  once 
original  and  suggestive. 

AALESUNb  TO  TETUAN.    By  CHAS,   R.   CORNING.    A  Volume  of 

Travel.    121110.    400  pp.    Cloth.    $2.00. 

TABLE  OF  CONTENTS.  —  Portsmouth  —  Isle  of  Wight  —  Channel  Islands  — 
Normandy  —  Nice  —  Monte  Carlo  —  Genoa  —  Naples  and  its  Environments  — 
Rome  —  Verona  —  Venice  —  Norway  —  Sweden  —  St.  Petersburg  —  Moscow  — 
IVarsaw — Berlin  — Up  the  Rhine  —  Barcelona  —  Valencia  —  Seville  —  Cadiz 

—  Morocco  —  Gibraltar — Granada  —  Madrid  and  the  Royal  Wedding — Bull 
Fights  —  Escurial  —  Biarritz  —  Bordeaux  —  Paris. 

TAPPY'S  CHICKS:  or,  Links  Between  Nature  and  Human  Nature. 
By  MRS.  GEORGE  CUPI-LES.  Illustrated.  i6mo.  Cloth.  #1.25. 

The  tenderness  and  humor  of  this  volume  are  simply  exquisite. — E.  P. 
W hippie. 

The  title  is  altogether  too  insignificant  for  so  delightful  and  valuable  a  work 

—  Spectator  (London). 

It  is  not  merely  a  work  of  talent,  but  has  repeated  strokes  of  undeniable 
genius.  —  George  Matdonald.  \In  preparation. 

Cupples  and  Hurd,       "  £"**//«*,  BOSTON. 

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THE  HEIDI  SERIES. 
STORIES  FOR  CHILDREN  AND  THOSE  WHO  LOVE  CHILDREN. 

Translated  from  the  German  of  Johanna  Spyri  by  Louise  Brooks. 

HEIDI:       HER  YEARS  OF  WANDERING  AND   LEARNING.      How  SHE   USED  WHAT 

SHE  LEARNED.     2  vols.  in  one.     i2mo.     Cloth,     pp.  668.     8th  edition,  with 
7  illustrations,  and  portrait  of  the  Authoress.     $1.50. 

RICO  AND  WISELI.     "RICO  AND   STINELLI,"   and   "HOW 
RICO  FOUND  A  HOME."    ijmo.   pp.  509.    doth.    #,.50. 

VERONICA  AND  OTHER  FRIENDS.    i2mo.  5,7  pages.  Cloth.  #,.5o. 
GRITLI'S  CHILDREN,    umo.    397  pages.    Cloth.    $1.50. 

The  Atlantic  Monthly  pronounces  "  Heidi  "  "a  delightful  book  .  .  .  charm, 
ingly  told.  The  book  is,  as  it  should  be,  printed  in  clear  type,  well  leaded,  and 
is  bound  in  excellent  taste.  Altogether  it  is  one  which  we  suspect  will  be 
looked  back  upon  a  generation  hence  by  people  who  now  read  it  in  their  child- 
hood, and  they  will  hunt  for  the  old  copy  to  read  in  it  to  their  children." 

A  leading  Sunday-school  paper  further  says  :  "  No  better  books  for  a  Sunday- 
school  library  have  been  published  for  a  long  time.  Scholars  of  all  ages  will 
read  them  with  delight.  Teachers  and  parents  will  share  the  children's  enjoy- 
ment." 

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and  value,  and  it  has  been  truly  said  that  their  publication  marks  an  era  in  the 
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sectarian  bias,  have  secured  for  them  a  place  in  the  Sunday-school  libraries  of 
all  denominations,  and  make  them  as  welcome  to  those  having  charge  of  the 
young  as  they  are  to  the  children  themselves. 

OLD    NEW    ENGLAND    DAYS.     A  story  of  true  life.     By  SOPHISM. 
DAMON.    Second  edition.    i6mo.    $1.25. 

"  Reading  '  Old  New  England  Days '  is  like  talking  with  an  old  lady  who  has 
long  since  passed  the  allotted  "  three  score  and  ten,  and  now  delights  in  noth- 
ing so  much  as  in  recalling  the  far  distant  days  of  her  youth." — Concord  Even- 
ing Gazette. 

"  The  beauty  of  the  tale  is  in  the  touches  of  Yankee  life  and  lore,  joy  and 
sorrow,  which  crop  out  at  every  turn  of  the  page,  like  dandelions  in  a  summer 
field." — Christian  Journal. 

MAHALY  SAWYER;    OR,  PUTTING   YOURSELF  IN    HER 
PLACE.     By  S.  E.  DOUGLASS.     i6ino.     Cloth.    £125. 

This  is  a  very  curious  and  a  remarkably  interesting  little  book.  The  Chris- 
tian Register,  one  of  the  ablest  of  critical  reviews,  says:  "  If  the  number  of 
people  vitally  interested  in  the  motif  oi  this  bright  story  should  all  be^the  num- 
ber of  its  readers,  it  would  have  a  circulation  equal  to  '  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin.' 
...  It  is  a  realistic  tale,  which,  in  its  way,  puts  Mr.  Howells  to  shame." 

Publishers ,  r>  /->  r-  ~r/-\  \  r 

Cupples  and  Hurd,         *«»**•//«•,,  BOSTON. 

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WORKS  BY  SALLY  PRATT  MCLEAN. 

CAPE   COD    FOLKS.    A  novel.  Twenty-third  edition.    Illustrated.    i2mo. 
Cloth.     $1.25. 

TOWHEAD:   THE   STORY  OF   A  GIRL.    Fifth  thousand,    umo. 
Cloth.    $1.25. 

SOME  OTHER  FOLKS.    A  Book  in  Four  Stories.   I2mo.   Cloth.    $1.25. 

These  books  are  so  well  known  that  further  comment  seems  superfluous. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  entire  press  of  the  country  has  unanimously  spoken  or 
them  in  terms  of  high  praise,  dwelling  not  only  on  their  delicious  humor,  their 
literary  workmanship,  their  genuine  pathos,  and  their  real  power  and  eloquence, 
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therein  some  familiar  trait,  some  description  or  character  which  is  at  once  recog- 
nized. 

MISS  McLEAlTS  NEW  BOOK. 

Since  the  production  of  Miss  McLean's  first  effort  "  Cape  Cod  Folks,"  she 
has  steadily  advanced  in  intellectual  development ;  the  same  genius  is  at  work 
in  a  larger  and  more  artistic  manner,  until  she  has  at  lergth  produced  v.  h.-.t 
must  be  truly  considered  as  her  masterpiece,  and  which  we  have  the  pleasure  to 
announce  for  immediate  publication. 

LASTCHANCE   JUNCTION;   FAR,    FAR   WEST.    A  novel.    By 
SAILY  PRATT  MCL-EAN.     i  vol.     izmo     Cloth.    $1.25. 

The  author  in  this  book  sees  further  and  clearer  than  she  saw  in  her  earlier 
works  ;  she  has  stepped,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  limits  of  her  former  thought  and 
action  into  the  centre  of  the  arena  of  the  world's  full,  rich  life;  from  the  indi- 
vidual characteristic  she  has  passed  to  the  larger  weaknesses  and  virtues  of 
humanity,  with  their  inevitable  results  of  tragedy  and  nobility.  Much  as 
has  been  said  respecting  the  pathos  of  her  former  books,  one  feels,  as  the 
last  page  of  "  Lastchance  Junction  "  has  been  turned,  that  they  were  but  sma'l 
as  compared  with  this,  so  terribly  earnest  is  it,  so  true  in  its  delineation  of  life, 
with  all  its  elements  of  tragedy  and  comedy ;  and  life,  moreover,  in  that  region 
of  our  country  where  Nature  still  reigns  supreme,  and  where  humanity,  uncon- 
trolled by  the  conventionalities  of  more  civilized  communities,  stands  sharply 
drawn  in  the  strong  shadows  of  villainy  and  misery,  and  in  the  high  lights  of 
uncultured,  strong  nobility  and  gentleness.  There  are  no  half-tones. 

Terse,  incisive  descriptions  of  men  and  scenery,  drawn  with  so  vivid  a  pen 
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and  that  two  edition-s  of  it  have  been  published  in  London  (without  the  know- 
ledge and  consent  of  the  author),  permits  him  to  hope  that  its  republication, 
in  a  revised  form,  may  be  acceptable  to  those  who  wish  to  know  what  should 
be  done  and  what  avoided  in  order  that  the  sight,  the  most  important  of  our 
senses,  may  be  enjoyed  and  preserved. —  Preface. 

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WORKS  BY  RUSSIAN  AUTHORS. 
THE  POEMS  OF  ALEXANDER    PUSHKIN.     Translated  from  the 

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Panin.      i  vol.  i6mo.       Bound  in  yellow  satin  and  white  vellum,  with  an 

appropriate  design  and  gilt  top.     Price,  $2.00. 

This  is  a  solitaire  and  a  masterpiece.  Pushkin  is  by  far  the  most  celebrated 
of  all  Russian  poets,  and  only  a  Russian  can  translate  him.  The  volume  is 
beautifully  printed,  and  appeals  to  choice  minds.  —  Tlie  Beacon. 

THOUGHTS-     By  IVAN  PANIN.    First  and  second  series  (sold  separately). 

i6mo.     Cloth.     Price,  50  cents  each. 

"  Good  thoughts  and  wise  precepts."  —  Boston  Advertiser. 

"  An  expert  in  pithy  expression."  —  Boston  Globe. 

"  The  truth  is,  this  little  volume  in  a  small  compass  is  a  treasury  of  thought." 
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ANNOUCHKA.    A  novel.     By  IVAN  TOURGUENEFF.     i6mo.   Cloth.   $1.00. 

POEMS  IN  PROSE.  By  IVAN  TOURGUBNEFF.  Portrait.  121111.  Cloth, 
gilt  top,  uncut  edges.  $1.25. 

WORKS  RELATING  TO   MUSIC  AND  THE  DRAMA. 
YESTERDAYS    WITH     ACTORS-    By  KATE  REIGNOLDS  WIN-SLOW. 

Second  edition.    Illustrated  with  many  portraits  and  vignettes.  Cr.  .Svo.  Cloth, 

Colored  top,  uncut,  $2.00;  white  and  gold,  gilt  top,  $2.50. 

Anecdote  and  sparkling  reminiscences  concerning  famous  actors  and 
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AN  ACTOR'S  TOUR;  OR  SEVENTY  THOUSAND  MILES 
WITH  SHAKESPEARE.  By  DANIEL  E.  BANDMANX.  With  portrait 
after  W.  M.  HUNT.  i2mo.  Cloth.  $  1.50. 

ADELAIDE  PHILIPPS,  THE  AMERICAN  SONGSTRESS-  A 
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RICHARD  WAGNER,  AND  HIS  POETICAL  WORKS,  FROM 

"RIENZI"TO  "PARSIFAL."     Translated  from  the    French  of  Jr- 
DITH  GAUTIER  (L.  S.  J.).    With  portrait.     i2tno.    Cloth,   Ji.oo. 

PAYNE  (JOHN  HOWARD).  By  C.  H.  BRAINARD.  A  Biographical 
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BOOKS  ABOUT  RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON. 

RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON:  PHILOSOPHER  AND  SEER.  By 

BRONSON  A.  ALCOTT.  Second  edition.  Portraits,  etc.     Cr.  8vo.   Cloth.  Ji.oo. 

A  book  about  Emerson,  written  by  the  one  man  who  stood  nearest  to  him  of 
all  men.  It  is  an  original  and  vital  contribution  to  Emersonian*  ;  like  a  portrait 
of  one  of  the  old  masters  painted  by  his  own  brush. 

"A  beautiful  little  book."  —  Boston  Transcript. 

"This  book,  more  than  any  other  which  Alcott  published,  shows  his  highest 
quality  as  a  writer."  —  Boston  Unitarian. 

RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON:  HIS  MATERNAL  ANCESTORS, 
WITH  SOME  REMINISCENCES  OF  HIM.  By  his  cousin,  D.  G. 
HASKINS,  D.D.  With  illustrations  reproduced  from  portraits  and  sil- 
houettes never  before  made  public.  i2mo.  Large  paper,  $5.00;  cloth,  $1.50. 

Printed  in  the  antique  style,  and  a  very  choice  book.  The  illustrations  are 
exceedingly  interesting,  while  the  work  itself  throws  unique  and  valuable  side- 
lights on  the  life  and  character  of  its  subject. 

THE  OPTIMISM  OF  RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON.  By  WILLIAM  F. 

DANA.     i6mo.     Cloth.     75  cents. 

An  essay  of  reach,  insight,  and  ripeness  of  judgment,  showing  the  teaching 
of  Emerson's  philosophy  in  terse,  well-chosen  language.  One  of  the  best  of 
many  critical  expositions. 

THE  INFLUENCE  OF  RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON.    By  W.  R. 

THAVER.     8vo.     Paper.    $0.50. 

An  eulogy  of  his  work  by  one  qualified  to  speak  with  authority  by  reason  of 
his  studies  of  philosophic  systems,  who  compares  Emerson's  solution  of  the 
problems  of  the  Infinite  with  those  propounded  by  other  great  minds. 

LONGFELLOW  AND  EMERSON-  The  Massachusetts  Historical 
Society's  Memorial  Volume,  with  portraits.  Quarto  boards,  $2.00;  cloth, 
$2.50. 

Containing  the  addresses  and  eulogies  by  Dr.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes, 
Charles  E.  Norton,  Dr.  G.  E.  Ellis,  and  others,  together  with  Mr.  Emerson's 
tribute  to  Thomas  Carlyle,  and  his  earlier  and  much-sought-for  addresses  on 
Sir  Walter  Scott  and  Robert  Burns.  Illustrated  with  two  full-page  portraits  in 
albertype  after  Mr.  Notman's  photograph  of  Mr.  Longfellow,  and  Mr.  Hawes's 
celebrated  photograph  of  Mr.  Emerson,  taken  in  1855,  so  highly  prized  by  col- 
lectors. 

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THREE  THRILLING  NOVELS  IN  THE  STYLE  OF  THE  MODERN  FRENCH 
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MR.  AND    MRS-    MOBTON.    A   Novel,     gth  thousand,     izmo.   Cloth. 

A  powerfully  told  story  of  domestic  misunderstanding  which  turns  upon  an 
event  of  so  startling  a  nature  that  the  reader's  attention  is  at  once  arrested  and 
held  to  the  end.  Without  revealing  the  plot  of  the  book,  we  can  say  that  it 
concerns  the  marvellous  effects  of  atavism  and  tha  influence  of  heredity,  and  is 
totally  unexpected,  yet  probable  withal.  Lucidly  and  concisely  written,  with- 
out unnecessary  verbiage. 

SILKEN  THREADS:  A  DETECTIVE  STORY.  By  the  Author 
of  "  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morton."  i6mo.  Cloth.  #1.25. 

One  of  the  best  stories  of  its  kind  that  has  appeared  of  late,  and  worthy,  in 
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Boisgobey,  while  it  has  not  that  tediousness  which  sometimes  renders  these 
authors  distasteful  to  American  readers.  Wiikie  Collins  never  invented  a  more 
ingeniously  constructed  plot,  or  toid  it  in  a  more  iii.erosting  way. 

"  Construction  of  work  is  admirable,  the  denouement  very  cleverly  developed. 
.  .  .  Neither  more  nor  less  than  'that  bright  consummate  flower,'  genius,  re- 
appearing in  the  department  of  detection  —  the  latest  Vidocq." —  Boston  Globe. 

THE  DISK:  A  TALE  OF  TWO  PASSIONS.    By  E.  A.ROBINSON 

and  GEORGE  A.  WALL.     i2mo.     Cloth.     $1.00. 

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resembles  nothing  hitherto  published,  and  the  demand  for  it  continues  unabated. 
It  approaches  more  nearly  the  wonderful  romances  of  Jules  Verne  in  intricacy 
of  plot,  in  wealth  of  scientific  detail  and  vivid  imagination,  than  any  book  now 
before  the  public;  even  surpassing  him  in  the  marvellous  developments  of  science 
suggested  by  the  ingenious  pen  of  its  authors.  It  is,  as  its  name  denotes,  \ 
narrative  of  the  supreme  power  of  the  two  passions  of  love  and  science  upon 
different  organizations,  and  is  equally  good  in  the  charm  of  its  love  scenes  and 
in  the  weirdness  and  power  of  its  description  of  occult  investigations. 

2ORAH  :  A  LOVE  STORY  OF  MODERN  EGYPT.  BY  ELIZABETH 
BALCH.  Cr.  8vo.  Cloth  elegant.  #1.25. 

It  is  an  excellent  study  of  the  political  and  social  atmosphere  surrounding 
official  life  in  Cairo  and  Alexandria  at  the  present  day,  with  its  underlying 
stratum  of  Oriental  romanticism,  and  the  constantly  varying  stream  of  Western 
influences  which  are  slowly  but  surely  shaping  the  destinies  of  the  country. 

"  Depicted  with  artistic  power,  and,  as  a  love  story,  it  is  of  absorbing  interest. 
.  .  .  Told  with  all  the  rich  coloring  of  the  East."  —  Boston  Home  Journal. 

"  Cleverly  conceived  and  written."  —  Boston  Globe. 

"  Well  worth  reading."  — Julian  Hawthorne. 

"Shows  a  very  keen  observation  and  a  marked  descriptive  faculty."  — 
Churchman. 

"Its  very  incongruities  make  it  readable."  —  Philadelphia  Times. 

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